


Stardust

by kikkimax



Series: Stardust [1]
Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikkimax/pseuds/kikkimax
Summary: NCIS is called to a scene with three burned bodies and one amnesiac witness.





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally written at the end of NCIS' first season, so it's been around for over a decade. It takes place approximately six weeks after Tony's infamous kiss with the murderous tranny Voss, and in the Stargate universe 6 months after Daniel returns from being a glow worm.

 

 

 

In spite of the location, a ridiculous amount of bystanders milled up and down the rural highway near the turnoff.  Already feeling late and frustrated by the delays en route, Gibbs was forced to slow the rental car to a crawl for safety as he merged with the crowd.  He rolled down his window to show the state trooper in charge his badge.   “Obviously nothing exciting ever happens around here,” he quipped.

“Not like this, sir,” the trooper replied, opening the gate and letting them through.  A length of chain with a clipped lock swayed with the movement, crashing noisily into the metal post.  Representatives from various neighboring law enforcement agencies helped out and kept the rubber-neckers and the local TV news crew at bay.

“No wonder this place wasn’t in my travel brochure,” Tony joked as they proceeded too quickly down the two and a half miles of bumpy, overgrown dirt tracks.

“Gibbs,” Kate complained as she grabbed for the dashboard, bouncing around in spite of her tightly fastened seatbelt.

In no mood for criticism, Gibbs subtly increased the speed.  From the look Kate shot over the back of the seat, he knew Tony must be grinning ear to ear but didn’t bother checking the mirror to confirm his suspicions.  The usually light banter between Agents Todd and DiNozzo had recently taken a turn for the ugly and the wearisome trip had brought out the worst in both of them, which only added to the foulness of Gibbs’ current disposition. 

As they rapidly approached their destination the road flattened out into a rough gravel lot where a few unmarked cars, more mismatched police vehicles, an ambulance, and a hearse were already haphazardly parked.  Much to Gibbs’ surprise and relief all but a few of the ‘authorized’ spectators were relegated to the outside of the roped off portion and away from the crime scene.  Every eye turned their way as they piled out of the sedan and moved to the trunk to get their equipment.  An older gentleman in a ten-gallon hat broke away from the small group near the closest cabin and headed their way.

“DiNozzo, laser and sketch.  Kate, photos,” Gibbs instructed his team tersely as they slipped under the yellow and black police tape and entered the main area of the rundown fishing camp.  “Hurry so we can get ‘em bagged and tagged before the sun goes down.”

“You got it, boss,” Tony answered, pulling out the high-tech measuring device and a medium sized artist’s pad from the case he sat on the hood of a handy police car just inside the perimeter.

Still slightly unsettled from the ride, Kate merely nodded, already snapping pictures of the macabre scene.  The odor of scorched flesh hung heavy in the air but the dilapidated cabins around them appeared untouched by anything but time.  Just beyond the unkempt compound the river flowed peacefully on, impassive as ever to the unfolding human drama.

“We appreciate your call, Sheriff Tucker,” Gibbs greeted as he reached his equally gray but far more wrinkled counterpart to shake his hand.  Though they’d never met face to face, they’d spent a great deal of time throughout the day teleconferencing.  “Sorry it took us so long to get here.  Unfortunately, we ended up flying commercial,” he added with a touch of disgust. 

“I’m just glad you’re here, Agent Gibbs,” The older man gushed, pumping his hand gratefully.  “I can’t even fathom how this happened, but I do know it’s beyond the resources of my little department.  If it hadn’t been for the dog tags I would have just called the FBI for an assist.”

“Yeah, about the dog tags…”

“Charred but readable with a little effort, metal fared better than anything else,” the sheriff handed over a small evidence bag with the tags inside.  “They were on this body on the end.”

“Jeremy K. Murdock,” Gibbs read from the label as the tags themselves were black and warped, supposedly by heat.  “You know him?”

“Yeah, I knew him when he was younger.  If it really is Jeremy he’s a local kid, his uncle owns this place.  Now he’s a Lance Corporal in the Marine Corps but he’s been AWOL from his post for the last three days.  The van over there is registered in his name as well.”

Gibbs glanced at the van as he pocketed the evidence.  “You haven’t made a positive identification of the body?”

“Can’t.  It’s burned way too bad to make a visual ID and there’s no skin left on the fingers to pull off a print.  I reckon dental records’ll be the way to go.”

“Or DNA,” Gibbs agreed doubtfully, hoping Ducky could actually get genetic material from a charcoal briquette, otherwise they had no way to identify the other two corpses.

“To tell you the truth I would have been less surprised to find Jeremy in prison than in the marines.  Still, he’s one of our own so whatever you need, you got it.”

“Good enough,” Gibbs agreed amicably.  “Where’s my witness?”

“This way.  It’s the damnedest thing I ever saw,” the sheriff stated gravely as he ushered Gibbs back to the cabin. 

They walked in silence as Gibbs took the lead, carefully not to step on anything as he circumvented the last of the three human-shaped silhouettes amongst the weeds.  “That him?” he asked, climbing the two short steps to peek into the open door at the forlorn figure sitting on the threadbare couch.  The light brown head stayed bowed, the man evidently deep in his own thoughts.

“Yep, that’s the witness, victim, whatever you wanna call him,” the sheriff replied, following close behind.  “He was cuffed and passed out in this chair when my deputy got here.”

Gibbs inspected the sturdy, ladder-back seat on the deep porch, noting the handcuffs still affixed to the bottom rung.  A rickety table stood nearby with a kerosene lamp and a variety of implements, syringes and small vials on it.  Under the table a pale gray suit coat lay ripped and crumpled with a notable blood stain on the back of one shoulder.  

“Chemical-assisted interrogation on the veranda,” Gibbs observed wryly.  “Is that a West Virginia custom?”

“Nah,” the sheriff denied with an amused snort.  “I reckon the porch was cooler.  The only air conditioning out here is the wind blowing through the broken windows. They picked this place for a reason.  It’s not like anybody was gonna just happen by.”

“Which brings up the question how’d you happen to happen by?” Gibbs asked as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

The sheriff pointed to a faraway ridge across the river.  “Early this morning a volunteer spotter in that fire tower saw a dark cloud come up out of a clear blue sky.  As he watched it build it was followed by a bright flash of light.  Then the whole thing just sort of dissipated right before his eyes.  He called old man Ritchie who owns the next ranch over to check it out.”

“Was the gate secured when he got here?”

“Nope, the lock had been cut.  I never said Jeremy and his uncle were close.  The elder Murdock denies any knowledge of the younger one’s recent activities.”

“You believe him?”

“Without a doubt,” Sheriff Tucker declared unwaveringly.  “Anyhow, Ritchie called us as soon as he discovered the bodies.  Since he assumed our boy on the porch was dead too he just backed the heck out of here without touching anything.”

“Speaking of our boy,” Gibbs interrupted as he glanced through the window, “He’s not burned?  Not even a little?”

“Not so much as a singed eyebrow,” Tucker denied.  “But aside from being trussed up like a Christmas turkey he’d obviously been roughed up a little.  Nothing serious though.  We took him into town to get him checked out while we were waiting on your arrival.  According to the doc he’s got an assortment of bruises, abrasions on his wrists, a punctured ear drum, and… what’d she call it?”  He flipped open a small notebook and read from the scratches on the first page, “Posttraumatic retrograde amnesia.”

“Amnesia,” Gibbs parroted doubtfully.  “How convenient.”

“Looking at this stuff we figured he’d been shot up with something, which might help explain some of the memory loss.  He does have several needle marks on his arms but we don’t know for sure what was injected because our lab doesn’t run drug screens in-house.”

“You did have them draw blood though, right?”

“Yeah.  I’ll have someone pick it up from the clinic for you.”

“That’ll work,” Gibbs assured.  “Do you know this guy?”

Tucker shook his head with certainty.  “He’s not local.”

“And you’re positive he doesn’t remember what happened.”

“He didn’t know much of anything when he first woke up, but he’s been learning fast.  He’s a real smart fella, if a little twitchy.  Had a couple episodes where his eyes just sort of glazed over for a minute and left him all panicky.”

“You don’t think he might possibly be playing you?” Gibbs scoffed.

“He’s one hell of an actor if he is,” the sheriff retorted gruffly, on the verge of taking offense.  “But what do I know?  I’ve only been doin’ this for thirty years.  Maybe you should talk to him yourself.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Gibbs replied as he entered the main room of the cabin to make his own assessment while the sheriff went to cool down and find someone to run into town for the blood. 

The combination living room/kitchen was hot and dusty, further polluted by the pewter colored smudges from the borrowed forensic team’s sweep for prints earlier in the day.  There was a large window centered on each of three walls and a doorframe minus the actual door to the only bedroom on the forth.  Trash littered the floor and there was no other furniture except for the shabby ‘rescued from the dump’ sofa and a large wooden industrial spool situated strategically in front of it. 

A discarded silk tie lay on the makeshift coffee table amongst the fairly recent detriments of a fast-food meal which indicated the witness’ physical needs were being taken care of.  Gibbs noted immediately that he was wearing pants that matched the jacket on the porch.  However, the back of the light blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows in deference to the stuffy room, was conspicuously unmarred by blood. 

Except for a small, perfectly round bruise on his right temple and the wrinkled appearance of his clothing, the man didn’t look too bad for someone who had ostensibly been interrogated.  He remained seated and kept his eyes on a twisted piece of wire in his hands.  On closer inspection Gibbs realized the mangled bit of metal was once a pair of spectacles, the lenses now gone.

“I found these over there,” came a softly spoken explanation as the rumpled man finally squinting up at him.  He indicated a spot near the couch where a scattering of glass bits had been stomped into the faded and torn linoleum.  “I think they must have been mine, my sight’s a bit blurry.”

Gibbs pictured the attractive face with glasses and tentatively accepted the assumption.  Depriving someone part of their senses was a classic intimidation tactic, as was destroying personal property, and you couldn’t get much more personal than somebody’s eyeglasses.  

“You don’t remember.” 

“No.”

Digging in his pocket, Gibbs fished out his shield, flashing it briefly before showing his ID as well.  “I’m Special Agent Jethro Gibbs.  I work for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service and Sheriff Tucker is turning this case over to me.”  He waited for a response but got nothing other than a blank stare.  “We have reason to believe at least one of the men out there was a Marine.”

Haunted blue eyes blinked before dropping back to the destroyed frames.  “I don’t remember anything from… before.”

Gibbs retrieved a wobbly plastic chair from the porch and sat facing his only living witness, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.  “Tell me everything you do remember,” he requested single-mindedly.

With a resigned sigh the man tossed the frames on top of the trash on the table and began his tale.  “The first thing I saw when I woke up was a guy in a tan uniform.  Since he released my hands from behind my back I was extremely glad to meet him.  He kept asking for my name but I didn’t know it.  I still don’t. 

“There were three burned bodies in the grass.  No, I don’t know who they were.  No, I don’t know how they died or why whatever killed them didn’t kill me.  No, I don’t know why this whole place didn’t go up in smoke.  Yes, it probably should have, given the heat it would have taken to obliterate those people out there like that.”

Gibbs allowed an unhurried, unfriendly smile.  “Been over this a time or two already?”

“You could say that.”  The witness leaned back against the faded cushion, his eyebrows drawing together as he studied Gibbs.  “Am I a prisoner?” he asked warily.

“No,” Gibbs reassured, taken aback by the distrustful tone.  “But I expect your full cooperation and it just might help us figure out who you are.  You got somewhere else to be?”

“Apparently not.”

“Good.  I’ve got a lot more questions.”

 

***

 

Finished with the measurements, Tony climbed the first step on the big porch to sketch the layout of the bodies.  “It looks like they were running away from this cabin when they

were hit by a flame thrower,” he reflected, indicating the fanned-out appearance of the bodies in relation to one another. 

“Yeah,” Kate agreed grudgingly.  “But none of the grass around them is burnt.”

“I noticed that, too.  It’s like they were zapped in place and the fire was already snuffed by the time they hit the ground.  It’s weird.”

“This whole thing is weird,” the burly deputy who had been following Kate around commiserated with a shudder.  He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her.  “When that guy in there woke up the first thing he asked was ‘where am I?’ just like in the movies.”

“So?” Tony answered for Kate, who appeared similarly unimpressed.  “That’s pretty much the response you’d expect from someone with a memory loss.”

The deputy harrumphed.  “When I told him he was in West Virginia he though real hard for a minute then asked ‘Earth?’”

Kate looked from the deputy to Tony, who began to hum the theme to The Twilight Zone under his breath as he got back to his sketch.  She wordlessly reloaded the camera for another round of pictures. 

 

***

 

“Do you have a problem with one of my people?” Gibbs queried unexpectedly, breaking the regular pattern of questions.

“What?” the shocked man asked as he abruptly tore his gaze from DiNozzo, who he had been watching intently through the open door, back to Gibbs.

“You’ve been glaring at one of my agents for almost ten minutes.”

“I… no,” he stammered, obviously flustered by the accusation.  “I wasn’t glaring; I was just trying to decide what he’s doing.  I mean, I appreciate the need for photographs…” he waved a hand at the busy agents outside and trailed off.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called out, never taking his eyes off the witness.

“Yeah, boss?” Already on the porch, Tony answered immediately, turning to poke his head through the doorway.

Gibbs gestured to the pad and then to the curious man on the couch.  Tony looked confused but moved forward to hand over the sketches without comment.

“I get it,” the witness understood right away when he saw the measurements written along with the sketch.  “You get a better idea of scale and distance this way than with a picture.”

“It takes out the guess work.  As soon as we get back to the office we can program this information into a computer and get a three-dimensional layout of the site,” Tony expounded.  “It’s really cool.”

“You do good work.”

“Thanks,” Tony beamed, always appreciative of a pat on the back regardless of the source.

“ _All_ NCIS agents are trained to do sketches,” Gibbs explained, deflating DiNozzo’s ego ever so slightly.  “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I was about to help them bag the bodies.”

“Let Kate do that,” Gibbs instructed.  “I want you to keep an eye on our friend here while I call Ducky.  Get his prints, too.  I’ll arrange for the sheriff to scan ‘em and e-mail ‘em to Abby with the ones they got out of here this morning.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed quickly, more than happy to let Kate do the grunge work for a change.  “Let me get my kit,” he added, stepping out the door.

“I know this,” the witness exclaimed, looking a little dazed as he clutched the art pad.  “This is familiar.”

“You’ve done crime scene work?”

“No, no, I mean the drawings.  I’ve done sketches of… something.”

Gibbs nodded a tight acknowledgement then flipped open his phone and walked out onto the porch just as Tony came trotting back up the steps. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Tony asked apprehensively as he took a moment to peruse the table.

“Yeah, but it looks like whatever happened here happened before the real fun started,” Gibbs guessed, frowning at his limited signal strength.  “Or he told them what they wanted to know right off the bat.  Either way I don’t think the ordeal was bad enough he should need to block it out.  Let’s go for a little good-cop, bad-cop and see what happens.”

“I don’t have to guess which role I’ll be playing,” Tony said with a huff.  With Gibbs around he hardly ever got to play bad-cop any more.  “Don’t you think Kate would seem more sympathetic?” he thumbed over his shoulder toward the third member of the team.

Kate glanced up at them from where the crumbling remains were being painstakingly transferred into body bags, though she was too far away to hear their conversation.  The county hearse stood ready and the scene took on a surreal air in the gathering dusk. 

“That’s the problem, she really _would_ be sympathetic,” Gibbs grumbled.  “After our Jane Doe incident I’m not letting her anywhere near this guy.  With those eyes he’d have her for lunch.  Even I was starting to feel sorry for him.”

Grinning brazenly at the appraisal, Tony gradually let Gibbs’ glare tone down his glee.  “So you don’t believe him?” he expertly veered the subject in another direction.

Gibbs grimaced, obviously not wanting to commit one way or the other as he hit speed dial.  “It’s hard to say.  He _is_ convincing, but either way he’s not telling me anything.  If you can get him talking he might let something slip.  Stay on your toes but be friendly.”

“No problem.”

“Ducky, I need your opinion on memory loss,” Gibbs turned his attention to the coroner on the phone as he stepped off the side of the porch and wandered into the meadow in search of a better signal.

Tony watched Gibbs walk away then glanced once more at the table of horrors before plastering on his best smile and entering the room.  “Hi.  I’m Special Agent DiNozzo in case you didn’t catch the bellow earlier.”

“I caught that,” the man assured with a nervous smile in return as he put aside the sketch pad. 

Opening his case, Tony set up for fingerprints next to him on the couch.  “If you’re connected to any government agency this might be the quickest route to identifying you.”

“Or if I’m a criminal.”

Frowning as he took the man’s right index finger and rolled it across the ink blotter, Tony paused before repeating the action in a square on a sheet of paper attached to a small clipboard.  “Why do you say that?”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?  I mean I could very well be a criminal.  Normal people don’t usually get involved in things like this, do they?”

“No,” Tony granted as he did the next finger, which went a little smoother as the man made an effort to relax his hand in Tony’s grip. “But you may just be some poor sap who knew too much.  My bet is on some type of government employee or maybe military liaison.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, we’ve already got a military connection, but your hair’s not regulation so I don’t think you’re in the service, not in the mainstream anyway.  But you are clean cut under all that sweat and dirt, wearing what’s left of an expensive suit and Italian leather shoes,” Tony stated candidly, finishing the right hand and moving to the left.  “You’re either Mafia or… God forbid, FBI,” he joked.

“Maybe,” the man agreed uncertainly, examining the scuffed-up shoes.  “So, if I’m a government agent, why would someone kidnap me?”

“Do you know for certain you were kidnapped?” Tony asked, keeping it light as the man seemed to be warming to him, not so surprising after the grilling from Gibbs.

“No.  I’m just assuming I didn’t come here of my own free will.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, handing over a tissue when the prints were complete for both hands.  “It’s not exactly a vacation paradise.”

The witness wiped his fingertips thoughtfully, glancing out the window behind the couch.  “The river’s kind of nice.”

“Ah ha, you’re one of those ‘the glass is half-full’ types,” Tony teased gently as he started to put away his gear, earning another small smile. 

“Thanks for all the help, Tony,” Kate called contemptuously as her elongated shadow fell through the door. 

“I was doing what Gibbs told me to do,” Tony shot back in exasperation as the victim visibly tensed at the harsh words.  Kate’s indignation as she stood in the doorway totally disrupted the laid-back mood he had been trying to establish, but DiNozzo bit back the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue.  “John, this is Agent Todd,” he said instead, returning to a more pleasant tone.

“Hello,” Kate greeted with a guarded nod as she wiped her brow with an already damp handkerchief.

“Hi,” the man responded even as he turned his bemused expression on Tony.  “Uh, John?”

“John Doe,” Tony clarified.  “We have to call you something.  John is the generic name law enforcement usually gives to unidentified males… well, and men who patronize hookers.  Unless you prefer ‘hey you’.”

“John doesn’t fit him,” Kate argued, pursing her lips as she studied the strong, albeit grimy features.  “Can’t we come up of something more original?”

“Such as?” Tony inquired with feigned interest.

“I don’t know… Bailey, or Liam, or Alex…”

“Forget it,” Tony objected strenuously, cutting her off.  “We might as well call him Biff.”

“John’s okay,” the victim quickly decided, taking Tony’s side.  “I like John.” 

 “John it is.” Tony aimed his smug smile at Kate then quickly toned it down when he spotted Gibbs coming up the steps behind her. 

“Kate, start bagging the stuff on the porch while we’ve still got light,” Gibbs ordered as he brushed past her and entered the room.  “Make sure to get the suit coat under the table.”

With a feeble grunt of protest, Kate obediently disappeared out the door without another word.

For once Tony managed not to smirk at her displeasure, though his eyes did twinkle mischievously.  “What’d Ducky say?”

“As usual, Ducky said a lot of things,” Gibbs grumbled, his ears still ringing from the latest tangent.  “Mostly he said true amnesia without a significant head injury is rare.  Which is not to say it never happens,” he hastened to add before the witness could voice the protest already forming on his lips.

“I’ve got Abby doing a search on missing persons in the last twenty-four hours but it’s a long shot.  Most police departments don’t take a report on a healthy adult until they’ve been gone for over forty-eight hours unless there’s evidence of foul play.”

“And you don’t think I’ve been gone that long,” the newly dubbed John postulated.

“Not quite.”  Gibbs glanced around at the trashed room. “ _They_ may have been here that long but you don’t have much more than a day’s growth of beard and it’s not peach fuzz.  I seriously doubt they took time out from the interrogation to let you shave.”

John nodded his concurrence as he rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. 

“What’s the plan?” Tony asked.

“We’ll finish collecting the evidence then ship it to Abby tonight along with the van. The bodies are already on their way to Ducky,” Gibbs provided absently, still looking around.  “It’s been a long day so we’ll take a room in town and drive back to DC in the morning.”

Tony gaped at him. “We’re gonna drive home?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna drive, DiNozzo.  You got a problem with that?”

“Not really, but do you mind if I ask why?” Tony persisted.  “The evidence will get there before we do.”

“Because our witness has a busted ear drum,” Gibbs informed him impatiently.

“Oh.  I didn’t know that.”

“So?” John asked, his eyebrows rising as he once again turned to Tony for answers.

“The change in air pressure on takeoff and landing is very painful with that type of injury,” Tony explained with a sympathetic grimace just thinking about it.  “You don’t want to go through that.”

“You’re taking me with you?”

“Yes, we are,” Gibbs responded.  “Consider yourself in protective custody. You know something that somebody is willing to kidnap and torture you for, whether you remember it right now or not.  Something that got three men killed.”  As an afterthought he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag with a thin electrical device in it.  “I found this on the ground next to the porch.  Do you recognize it?”

John flinched hard and cupped his right ear.  “No.”  He turned away, silently declining to examine the piece of equipment.

“Maybe not consciously,” Tony pondered, sharing a look with Gibbs.

“There’s a speck of blood on the electrode on the tip,” Gibbs pointed out as he mimed placing the piece in his ear.

“It is kind of ear-shaped,” Tony agreed, reaching over and taking the bag.  “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

“Nope,” Gibbs shook his head.  “It’s just a hunch, but I’ll bet an electric current through the ear hurts like hell.”  He glanced up at the single, bare bulb already casting shadows around them as the sun went down.  “You two stay put.  I’m gonna help Kate finish up so we can get out of here,” he added, heading back out the door.

 Tony pocketed the device but he didn’t miss the way John’s face paled as he unwittingly caught sight of it again. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” John denied, getting up and moving shakily toward the front window, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared out to where Gibbs had joined Kate. 

“You just remembered something,” DiNozzo accused quietly as he followed, stopping behind him.  “Was it this?” he pulled out the device again.

“No,” John whispered, refusing to look.  “Please.  I don’t remember.”

“But you have remembered things,” Tony pushed in a gentle tone.  “Things you didn’t tell Gibbs.”

John licked his lip nervously, keeping his back to Tony.  “Some things, little things feel like real memories.  Other times it’s more like I’m watching events unfold but I’m not a part of it.  It’s like I’m everywhere and nowhere at the same time… like I don’t really exist at all.  Honestly, I think I must be crazy.”

Tony stowed the gadget in his breast pocket.  “Why do you say that?” he prodded softly, grasping the other man by the elbow when he tried to move away again. 

“Are we at war?” John asked with concern, evading the question as he glanced down at the hand keeping him in place.

“Yeah, sort of,” Tony supplied, uneasy with the turn of conversation.  “What kind of events?”

“A battle.”  John swallowed hard before continuing with difficulty.  “There’s smoke… bullets flying… fire raining down from the sky, then an enormous explosion.”

“Maybe you were military,” Tony theorized, moving his hand from John’s elbow up to squeeze his shoulder compassionately.  “Special Forces possibly.”

John shook his head but didn’t pull away.  “I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it.  I do remember this,” he stated decisively, gesturing towards himself as he looked over his shoulder to make eye contact.

Tony self-consciously dropped his hand when he realized they had an audience of more than Kate and Gibbs as several other people gathered in the grass beyond the porch.  “This?”

“This… this feeling of trying to remember, I think I’ve forgotten myself before.”

“That’s an odd thing to remember.”

“Yeah,” John agreed, moving away from the prying eyes outside as he wandered aimlessly around the room, ending up back near the couch.  “I just can’t seem to remember anything useful,” he growled in frustration.

“Hey, you remembered which planet you’re on,” Tony ribbed cheekily, trying to draw the discussion back to the more comfortable level they’d been at before John had seen the device.

John turned, narrowing his eyes as they finally stood face to face.  “It’s a start, right?”

“Well you’ve only got the one to choose from.”

“Do I?” John asked seriously, carefully regarding the agent’s amused expression before sitting down, his own expression rapidly growing cold. 

“Yeah, that’s a given,” Tony assured, realizing too late he had made a huge tactical error.

Shaking his head slowly, John studied his slightly ink stained fingertips.  He didn’t speak again for several minutes and Tony let him stew, unwilling to push any more at the moment. 

“Then the things I’m seeing can’t be true,” John finally swore under his breath.

“We’re the good-guys, you know,” Tony advised as he sat in Gibbs’ plastic chair, leaning forward earnestly and dropping his flippant attitude in an effort to earn back John’s trust.  “You can tell me anything, no matter how crazy it seems.” 

Leaning back on an elbow as he brought one foot up to rest on the flat cushion, John draped a hand across his knee, effectively taking up the whole couch.  He considered Tony for a minute then chuckled softly, but it sounded brittle and forced.  “I see how this works.  Your partner browbeats me for an hour and then you come in all kind and polite and smooth everything over to get me to spill my guts.”

“Good-cop, bad-cop,” Tony confessed, realizing the truth was the only way to go.  “It’s a common strategy, but I really am nicer than Gibbs most of the time.”

“You know, the only question I could think to ask when I woke up from whatever the hell happened to me produced fear, amusement, and questions about my sanity from everyone else,” John charged bitterly.  “So until I know for sure what’s going on, Agent DiNozzo, I think I’ll just keep any more flashes of ‘memory’ to myself.”

Tony hung his head momentarily before raising his eyes to the angry ones across from him.  “Tony,” he said at last.

“What?”

“Whether you like me or not we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together until we get this thing sorted out.  You might as well call me Tony,” DiNozzo insisted, pulling off one of his prize-winning smiles even though he didn’t quite feel it.

John snorted cynically.  “Sure, Tony,” he muttered, resting his head back and closing his eyes, the conversation obviously over.

 

***

 

 “Feeling left out?” Gibbs asked with a ghost of a grin as he watched Kate secretly observing Tony with the witness through the dusty window pane.

“Not at all,” Kate lied, her words incongruous with her jerky movements as she filled out the label on the bag of syringes.  “I just think I could be doing a lot more with this guy than Tony.”  Her cheeks colored at Gibbs’ smirk.  “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment,” Gibbs started, stopped by the disbelieving glare Kate leveled at him.  “Okay, it’s not _entirely_ that I don’t trust your judgment…”

“Gibbs, I’ve paid my dues,” Kate interrupted just short of a whine.  “I promise I will never let a witness get to me like Suzanne did again.”

“I hope you have learned your lesson, Kate, I just think it’s too soon,” Gibbs told her with his usual brutal honesty.  “Look, this guy is either extremely vulnerable or one manipulative son of a bitch and at this point even I’m not sure which.”

“I can be tough,” Kate insisted.

“If I’d wanted a ball-buster on this one I’d have done it myself.  This is gonna take some finesse.”

“But Tony?”

“DiNozzo knows how to walk a fine line; God knows he does it with me every day.  Even if he can be a pain in the ass, Tony is very good at what he does, that’s why I keep him around.”

“I know that,” Kate agreed reluctantly.  “But don’t you think I should at least take a few minutes to profile the witness?”

“I’m not sure you’d get anything out of him right now.  Besides, you’ll have plenty of time for that on the way home tomorrow,” Gibbs remarked with a weary sigh just thinking about six and a half hours trapped in a car with Tony and Kate.

 

***

 

Gibbs signed the carefully packaged evidence over to a deputy who was to transport it to the nearest airport for overnight shipping.  The van had been secured and towed away and the bodies were long gone, as were most of the extraneous personnel since there really wasn’t anything else worth gawking at.  At long last Gibbs shook hands with the sheriff and ordered his team, along with one exhausted witness, to the car. 

By the time they made their way toward the parking lot, darkness had overtaken the landscape.  With her Mag-Lite firmly in hand, Kate lead the way followed at a short distance by John who appeared more concerned with the spectacular view of the stars overhead than any snakes on the ground they had been warned might be out and about.  Gibbs purposely fell behind and motioned for Tony to walk with him.

“I blew it, boss,” Tony confessed immediately.  “He was opening up to me when I pushed the wrong button and poof.  It was like somebody hit the off switch.”

“What did you get from him?” Gibbs asked, seemingly shrugging off the setback.

“He remembers being in a particularly nasty firefight, but sort of in a disassociated way,” Tony reported.  “I’m even thinking Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or something because he’s certain he’s lost his memory before.”

“A soldier?  He didn’t strike me as the military type.”

“Yeah, me either.  Anyway, I was thinking; what if he was already suppressing a trauma and they forced him to remember it?  Could that account for the amnesia?”

“Good question,” Gibbs approved.  “We’ll see what Ducky thinks.  How’d you piss him off?”

Tony winced guiltily.  “Ah, see, when they found him this morning the first thing he asked was if he was on Earth.  Apparently, that got a rise out of the local LEOs and caused a little stir.  I might have rubbed him the wrong way by bringing it up again.”

Gibbs threw out a hand to stop Tony and gestured in the dark to the figure in front of them.  John stood motionless in the middle of the clearing, gaping longingly at the sky.  “Phone home,” Gibbs deadpanned as he started walking again.

Kate slowly became aware no one was following her and reluctantly tromped back through the knee-high weeds.  Clicking off her light, she positioned herself next to the witness.  “Stardust,” she said to him, following his upward stare.

“What?” John asked hoarsely, lowering his eyes to her for an instant before an invisible thread seemed to pull his gaze back to the stars.

“Stardust,” Kate repeated with an embarrassed shrug, using her hand to indicate the broad trail of white that weaved its way through the night sky.  “That’s what my grandmother always told us.”

“That’s the Milky Way, Kate,” Gibbs jeered lightly, passing them by. 

“I realized that,” Kate retorted defensively as Gibbs disappeared into the shadows.  “It was a family thing,” she called after him.

“Bill-yuns and bill-yuns of stars,” Tony mocked, taking a position on the other side of John as he too stopped to take in the beautiful display.  “Technically Granny wasn’t wrong,” he contemplated.  “Ultimately everything _is_ made out of stardust, right?  Even stars.”

“Where did you learn that?” Kate laughed.  “Let me guess, the Discovery Channel.”

“So? I watch educational TV… when there’s nothing else on.”

“Let’s go!” Gibbs yelled at them from the darkened parking lot.

“Come on before he ruptures something,” Kate sighed, turning her flashlight back on.  She accidentally crossed the flattened path made by the hearse on its way out and happily followed it through the weeds.

John began to breathe heavier as he searched the heavens with an undisguised urgency as if the answers to all his questions were written there if only he could see it more clearly. 

“We need to go,” Tony urged, clasping his charge by the elbow to steer him away.  He noted a slight tremor reverberating through the arm and was surprised at the hand that clutched back as John began to turn in a slow circle, still looking up.  As a sliver of moonlight illuminated John’s upturned face his quiet, desperate need provoked an unexpected tenderness in Tony that let him ignore Gibbs’ roar to allow the man another moment for his futile quest.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs’ shouted again and John reluctantly took a stumbling step forward, his attention remaining unwaveringly on the stars.  Tony kept a steadying hand on him as he guided him across the weedy terrain.   

“What the hell took you so long?” Gibbs grumbled when the stragglers finally reached the car.

“I had to pee,” Tony fibbed rather than blame John or worse, admit to a moment of weakness.

“I thought maybe you saw a snake,” Kate said innocently over her shoulder as she claimed the front passenger seat.

“Oh, I did,” Tony leered, enjoying Kate’s offended glower.  He opened the back door and helped John inside, automatically putting a hand on his head, a case of old habits dying hard.  After dropping his gear into the open trunk he slammed it shut and rounded the car to get in behind Gibbs.  “A seatbelt is always a good idea whenever Gibbs is driving,” he advised as he fastened himself in.

John nodded without protest and fumbled with the clasp for a minute as Gibbs started the car, muttering something about respecting elders.  Tony finally leaned over and clicked the uncooperative apparatus into place. 

“Anybody hungry besides me?” Tony asked as they left the loud crunch of the gravel lot for the quieter but rougher dirt tracks.

“I’m starving,” Kate answered, vigilantly holding on to the dash even though Gibbs wasn’t trying to set any land speed records at the moment.

“We’ll get something quick before we find a room,” Gibbs allowed as his own stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

“We should probably go by that twenty-four-hour Wal-Mart we passed on the way in, too,” Kate suggested pragmatically.

“Why?” Gibbs and Tony responded in unison.

“Oh, come on,” Kate scolded.  “John doesn’t have anything but the clothes on his back and those are getting a little ripe.  He’s going to need a toothbrush and a change of underwear at the very least.  Unless you guys are willing to share.”

“Anything but the toothbrush,” Tony volunteered.  “No offense,” he added to John who blinked back at him listlessly.

“Fine,” Gibbs sighed, glancing in the mirror at the reticent witness who leaned his head back against the seat and stared dazedly into the darkness out the window.  “He looks wiped out though.  Tony, we’ll drop you two off at a motel and Kate and I will go shopping and get dinner.”

Tony looked like he might protest before nodding his assent.  “Whatever you say, boss.”

John continued to watch the shadows rush by but soon allowed his eyes to slide shut and was snoring softly in no time, despite the bumpy ride.  Tony reached into the floorboard beside his personal bag and located his NCIS windbreaker to cover him with.  They drove on in silence each lost in their own thoughts until a multitude of lights up ahead indicated they were nearing the paved road.  Gibbs stopped the car and cut the headlights.

“I see the news crew is still here.  In fact, it looks like they multiplied,” Tony observed in mild annoyance.  “You think they’ll notice we’ve added a passenger?”

“They taped us going in,” Gibbs commented dryly.  “I’m sure they’ve gone over that footage a dozen times by now.  They’ll be frothing at the mouth for any hint of something new.”

“There’s no telling what little tidbits they’ve picked up as many people have been in and out of here all day.  I’m sure they know about John.  If they get him on tape you know they’ll run it,” Kate advised. 

“The question is; do we want his face all over TV?  Eventually somebody would recognize him,” Gibbs reasoned.  “But do we really want to advertise his whereabouts?  Those people weren’t playing.”

“Yeah, but they’re all dead,” Kate pointed out.

“With those resources I’d say the chances are good they weren’t working alone.”

“Well John’s already been in and out once,” Tony reminded them.  “Or out and back in, that is.”

“They weren’t here yet when they took me to see the doctor,” John said quietly.  “When I came back they hid me in the back of the ambulance.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Tony said, mildly surprised.

“I woke up a ways back,” John replied, rubbing his eyes as he sat up straighter in the seat.  “Bad dream.”

“Cover him,” Gibbs decided, turning the lights back on and proceeding up the road.

Each at least six-foot tall, the two men looked around the relatively small backseat.  It was glaringly obvious John would not fit in the floorboard, especially with Tony’s feet, laptop, and pack in the way.  He undid his seatbelt then let Tony guide his head down into his lap before drawing the jacket up over his head.

Tony gave Kate a warning look as she handed her windbreaker over the seat to cover John’s legs.  She didn’t bother to hide the fact she was highly entertained by Tony’s unease with the situation, but to her credit didn’t comment in front of the witness. 

With nowhere else to put his arm, Tony draped it across the back of the seat, finding himself a little unnerved by the man’s head resting heavily on his thigh.  “You okay?” he asked as John shifted around trying to get comfortable but making Tony anything but.

“I’m fine,” came the muffled response as the movement settled. 

Within minutes they could hear excited voices as they approached the two-lane highway.  Gibbs waved to the trooper manning the gate as he slowly pulled onto the pavement, attempting to turn right.  Lights hit him in the face as not one but two or maybe more television crews, along with a plethora of other reporters, descended on the car with cameras rolling.

“Joylyn Thompson, News 9, can we get an interview?” A pushy blonde in a business suit requested, tapping on Gibbs’ rolled up window, microphone in hand.

“No.  Get out of the way,” Gibbs barked at her as he continued to inch the car forward.

“Are you FBI?” a male journalist asked Kate on the other side of the car.  “What can you tell us about the triple murders?”

“Get away,” Kate warned, holding up a hand to protect her eyes from the strobe light effect of the flashes going off all around them.

“Were the deaths due to lightening?” someone else questioned loudly.

“Who is the mystery witness?”

“Give it a rest,” Gibbs grumbled, honking the horn irritably as the swamped patrolmen valiantly tried to get the media mob under control.

Still shouting questions, the crowd slowly fell back to wait for the next vehicle, knowing the sheriff was their best bet for an interview anyway.  Tony smiled and waved for the cameras, earning a pout from the blonde as they picked up speed and pulled away. 

“Looks like we’ve got two tails,” Tony noted less than a quarter mile down the road.

Gibbs glanced in the side mirror.  “I got that.  We’ll lose ‘em on the way to town.  Keep the witness down in the meantime.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” Tony sighed as he gently pulled the windbreaker away from John’s face.  “He’s asleep again.”

 

***

 

Good as his word, Gibbs easily evaded the persistent reporters long before they hit the outskirts of town.  The roads were deserted as he parked under the canopy of a small but new motel next to the highway and let the motor idle.  “Two rooms, we’ll double up,” he instructed, tuning out Kate’s sigh that indicated she had hoped to bunk alone.  “Keep a low profile.”

“John,” Tony called, patting the forgetful witness on the back.

“I’m awake,” the man muttered instantly, sitting up and blinking rapidly to clear his vision.  He pulled Kate’s jacket off his lap and deposited it in the middle of the seat.  “Where are we?”

“In the grand scheme of things, do you really care?” Tony asked with a short laugh, gathering his bag and computer case as he opened his door.

John looked up and down the small-town street owlishly.  Only street lights and the occasional blinking neon sign disturbed the darkness.  “No,” he admitted, stretching as he opened the door and stepped out of the car, still clutching the windbreaker that had been covering his shoulders.  After glancing down at his own grubby clothing, he pulled it on for camouflage as he made his way around the back of the car to wait for Tony.  He glanced up at the sky, disappointed to find he could no longer see the Milky Way.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Kate taunted before Tony had both feet flat on the ground.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony challenged, fully aware what she was alluding to.

Kate smiled ingenuously, lowering her voice.  “I was just thinking of your new penchant for kissing men.  Maybe we shouldn’t leave you two alone.”

Gibbs growled his disapproval, clenching the steering wheel and staring straight ahead as he gunned the engine.  Tony grabbed his things and climbed out of the car, slamming the door before stalking off towards the lobby.  With one last confused glance at Kate, John followed him.  When they were both safely inside the building, the car whipped out of the drive and down the street.

“I need two adjoining rooms with double beds,” Tony told the clerk brusquely as he approached the desk, obviously still ticked off.

The matronly woman eyed Tony first then turned her critical gaze to John.  “Yes sir,” she said priggishly as she started to type into her computer.

Tony looked back to find John wearing his windbreaker and self-consciously smoothing down his unwashed hair.  “Don’t worry about her,” DiNozzo advised loud enough for the woman to hear him.  “A little soap and water and you’ll be good as new.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the desk clerk announced, not sounding especially contrite.  “The only connecting rooms available have king-sized beds.”

“You’re kidding me,” Tony blurted out in disbelief, halting the fumble in his back pocket for his billfold.

“No sir, a big news story broke today and we got a flood of media and law enforcement people.  I’ve got one double open, but the room next to it is taken.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” John stated, helping out Tony by taking possession of the laptop.  “I can sleep anywhere.”

“I noticed,” Tony harrumphed as he secured his wallet and selected his company credit card.  “I guess we should get the double for Kate and…  You know what?  Just give us two of the king-sized rooms that are together,” he amended mid-thought, suddenly more cheerful, even treating the clerk to an impish grin.

“Yes sir,” she couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking the card and getting them registered.

“Agent Todd’s not going to be very happy,” John offered observantly.

“Hmm, you’re perceptive.  Don’t worry, she’ll get over it.  Eventually.”  Tony signed the receipt and accepted one of the keycards but pressed the other back toward the clerk.  “A Jethro Gibbs will be picking this one up shortly.  You can’t miss him, he’s got short silver hair and an attractive brunette with a bad attitude.”

“You were investigating the murders,” the clerk suddenly gasped, putting two and two together.  She turned to the news report on the small TV set behind the desk as if for confirmation before casting a reassessing stare at John.  “This must be the mystery witness everyone keeps talking about!”

“So much for a low profile,” John retorted, not bothering to deny it.

“Louise,” Tony said in a deadly calm voice, reading her nametag as he brushed aside the edge of his outer shirt to flash his gun and badge, “I’m going to ask you to keep that information to yourself.  You’ve already insulted my friend here and if you start making phone calls you could possibly put his life in danger.”

“I would _never_ do that,” Louise protested a little too vehemently. 

“Good, because I would hate to bring you up on charges,” Tony threatened solemnly.  “So, can I trust you?”

“Of course,” Louise nodded with suddenly wide, frightened eyes.

“All right then, but if we get mobbed by reporters in the morning, we’ll know who to come looking for,” Tony warned, catching John by the arm and pulling him to the elevator without waiting for the usual check-in spiel.  “Room two thirty-seven, looks like we’re on the top floor,” he commented casually as he pushed the up button. 

“Could you really arrest her?” John whispered, shooting concerned glances back to the woman who was ineptly pretending not to stare at them.

He waited for the doors to open then ushered John inside and hit number two.  “Probably not,” Tony came clean once they were on their way up.

“You scared her.”

DiNozzo grinned rakishly.  “I think she’ll keep her mouth shut.”

John seemed to think for a minute then let it drop. “What did Kate mean about your penchant for kissing men?” he asked evenly, moving on to a new and more interesting topic.

The unanticipated shift in conversation took Tony by surprise and his grin melted into open-mouthed shock.  “You heard that?”

“I lost my memory, not my hearing,” John replied as the bell dinged and the elevator car bounced slightly on arrival.  “What did she mean?”

“She didn’t mean anything,” Tony denied, suddenly in a hurry as the door opened.  “Come on.”  He took four steps the wrong way before noticing a directory on the wall then executed a rapid about face and fairly bolted in the other direction.

John bided his time and followed along, waiting patiently while Tony inserted the keycard three times before getting the lock to open.  “Do you?” he asked as he entered the room with Tony hitting the lights right behind him.

“Do I what?” Tony challenged edgily.  He shut the door, locked it, and slid the chain into place all without even a glance in John’s direction.

“Like to kiss men,” John clarified as he stripped out of Tony’s jacket and placed it on the bed along with the soft-sided computer case.  When he spotted the remote mounted on the nightstand he went to examine it before hitting the power button.  He smiled at his little accomplishment when the screen came to life.

Tony tossed his pack onto the bed.  “If you can’t remember anything, how did you know how to do that?” he asked suspiciously.

“It says ‘on’,” John pointed out reasonably.  “Besides, they had one of those at the clinic,” he added nodding to the TV where the blonde was reporting from a very familiar crime scene. 

“Oh.” Tony accepted the explanation for the moment.

“Looks like they finally let the press in,” John stated as he crossed his arms over his chest and listened to what was being said.  “Lightening?  Please, those men were toast.  If the bolt was that hot then why wasn’t anything else incinerated?”

“You’re pretty smart,” Tony noted, slipping back into investigator mode.  “You say you don’t have any memories and yet you can still talk and read and… you just seem to know a lot of stuff.”

“According to the doctor I’m not technically brain damaged so even without memories I can still think.  And I suppose I do have a certain amount of latent knowledge,” John defended himself, turning an intense gaze on the agent.  “Recall of stored information and memory of past events aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

“I guess,” Tony gave in guardedly.  “But you don’t even remember your name.  That’s pretty basic.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” John shrugged as he began to unbutton his shirt.  “And you never answered my question.  Why should I keep answering yours?”

“Fine,” Tony sighed dramatically.  “What was the question again?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“No, John,” Tony stated touchily to put an end to the matter. “I do not like to kiss men.”

“Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” John asked as he moved toward the large mirror that took up the entire wall over the en suite sink.  He flipped on the light and winced as he pulled his shirt off his shoulders.  

“Do you?” Tony queried, surprisingly interested in the conversation as long as it wasn’t focused on him. “Tit for tat.”

“I have no idea,” John replied offhandedly, letting the shirt drop down his arms to the floor as he studied the myriad of bruises across his ribs.

“Wow,” Tony exclaimed, moving to stand behind him to survey the damage.  “They really worked you over.”  He ghosted a hand over the purpling flesh along John’s lower back.  “Kidney punches.  Ow.” 

“They didn’t look so bad this morning.”

“I’m sure they didn’t.  Unfortunately, they’ll only get worse before they get better.  I’ll call Kate and have her pick you up something for pain.”

“I’ve got medicine,” John informed him, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out a plastic prescription bottle.

Tony took it and read the label. “Motrin?”

“Eight hundred milligrams.  The doctor said it was strong.”  John kicked off his shoes and made a pained face as he bent to remove his socks.

“Well yeah, for Motrin,” Tony smirked, realizing he had been sidetracked. “Hey, now who’s avoiding the question?”

John met his eyes in the mirror as he straightened back up.  “I already told you, I have no idea.  I don’t remember ever kissing anyone, male or female.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that was actually your answer… never mind.  Let’s just drop it, okay?”

“Sure,” John agreed easily, unzipping his fly as he peeked into the bathroom.  “I can wash up in here?”

“Yeah, here’s some stuff you’ll need,” Tony supplied, digging through the courtesy basket next to the sink and unwrapping the larger of the two small bars of soap.  “How could you not know?”

“That it’s a washroom?”

“No, it is.” Tony handed over the soap and a miniature shampoo.  “I meant how can you not know if you prefer men or women?  Isn’t that more knowledge than memory?”

“As you pointed out before, I don’t even know my own name so I don’t think forgetting my sexual orientation is much of a stretch.  And to tell the truth, it never even crossed my mind before you brought it up.  I thought we weren’t going to talk about it anymore.”

“Uh-uh, _Kate_ brought it up and you wouldn’t leave it alone,” Tony disputed, getting a little flustered.  “And you’re right, we should probably not.  Talk about it.  Can you figure out the shower?”

“I think so,” John said as he dropped his pants and stepped out of his briefs, kicking both under the counter along with his shoes.

“Don’t burn yourself.  You’re beat up enough,” Tony cautioned, tilting his head slightly as he noticed the fairly recent scar on the back of John’s right thigh.  As if of their own accord his eyes were drawn upward.

“I won’t.”  John disappeared behind the door.

Soon the sound of running water could be heard and Tony found himself staring at the closed door still thinking about John’s upper, upper leg.  If he’d happened to notice anything other than the scar, it was purely by accident, or so he told himself.  “Shit,” he muttered, letting out the breath he’d been holding and getting the hell away from the bathroom.

After kicking off his shoes he sat for a minute on the edge of the big bed then collapsed back onto mattress.  He rubbed his face with both hands, hoping fervently the case wouldn’t last long.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like John; it was quite the opposite.  The odd combination of vulnerability and perseverance in the mild-mannered man touched him inside and he really, _really_ didn’t want to examine the feeling too closely.  Not to mention he had just blatantly checked out the man’s assets, no matter what lie he’d spun to assuage the blow to his very male ego.

He reluctantly began to understand the kinship Kate had so hastily developed with her own walking, talking blank slate.  And oh, how _not good_ that one had turned out; with little pieces of Jane Doe and her victim literally raining down on all of them with the rest of the debris from the inevitable explosion.  In spite of the fact they could have been killed, Tony had only wanted to make Kate feel better. 

Too bad she hadn’t returned the sentiment when he screwed up with Voss.  But then again, he had crossed the line with what he’d thought was a witness, going so far as to kiss her… him.  Even now he pondered Kate’s question.  What _was_ it like to tongue a guy?  If he had only realized… maybe he would have paid a little more attention.

At any rate, he obviously needed to impose some emotional if not physical distance between himself and John before things got out of hand.  His troubled thoughts were disrupted by the ringing of his cell which he retrieved from his pocket and flipped open without bothering to get up.  “DiNozzo.” 

Sighing unenthusiastically at the request, Tony scooted off the bed.  “Yeah, yeah, hang on.”  Padding back over to the sink, he bent down and pulled a shoe from under the counter and checked the size. 

“Ten and a half,” he reported dutifully.  “Yeah… No, no way.  I don’t do underwear… Because it’s nasty, Kate… Well I can’t ask him, he’s in the shower and besides, he doesn’t remember…  I do know that for a fact… Because I don’t know what size _I_ wear without looking and I didn’t lose my memory… I am a normal male… I said normal, Gibbs doesn’t count.  He probably keeps his folded and numbered…”

Tony closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, vowing unholy revenge on Kate.  “Oh hi, boss… Size?  Sure, let me look.”  Finding only a single latex glove remaining in his pocket, Tony snapped it on then sorted one-handed through the dirty clothes on the floor and came up with a pair of white BVD briefs.  “Thirty-two,” he reported into the phone as he shoved everything back under the sink, including the smelly shirt and socks.  “Okay… bye.”

Sitting back on his haunches, Tony banged his head lightly on the side of the counter.  “Someday, Caitlin Todd, someday,” he swore. 

He tossed the glove, got to his feet, and headed back to the bed, pushing his pack and laptop to the center of the mattress.  Stealing two of the three large pillows, he propped them against the headboard and made himself comfortable next to the bolted down remote to flip channels.  Awkward as it was, it was superfluous and distracting, just the ticket. 

“Hello,” he muttered when a flash of bare breasts caught his eye.  He hit the ‘buy’ button, crossed his feet and settled in to watch, turning the volume all the way down to circumvent the moans, groans, and low-budget music.  There didn’t seem to be much dialogue anyway.

 

***

 

Since the knobs were handily labeled as hot and cold, John quickly adjusted the temperature to his liking and even figured out how to make the water rush out of the spout at the top.  After a quick consideration of the logistics he pushed the vinyl curtain to the inside of the enclosure, not sure if was the correct thing to do but certain it would help to keep the floor dry.  He pulled the mat off the side of the tub and dropped it into the floor then grabbed the soap, shampoo, and a small cloth from the rack over the toilet. 

When he stepped in and pulled the curtain shut behind him he found the pounding water on his abused abdomen and back to be painful.  With a little experimentation he discovered that turning the nozzle adjusted the force of the water from a harsh staccato beat to a finer, less insistent stream.  Finally he let the spray sluice over his face and chest as he relaxed into the soothing warmth, seduced by its comfort to let his mind go blank…

 

 _Sand exploded in every direction as the ground itself heaved in great, cataclysmic waves rushing toward the horizon_ …

 

John jerked at the vivid and dreadful vision, nearly falling as he jumped back.  When his knees buckled he braced himself but ending up sliding down the back wall, collapsing into a wet heap in the tub. He dropped his head to rest on his knees as the water continued to fall, soaking his dirty hair and draining away in light brown rivulets for a minute before running clear.  Shivering in spite of the warm water, his heart raced with the sensation of utter and complete failure that accompanied the strange hallucinations. 

For the first time he had the luxury of recovering without an audience for which he was extremely grateful.  The episodes tended to freak people out and since he was already being viewed with suspicion and fear he had quickly learned to hide his reactions.  The panic slowly eased and John sighed as the tightness in his chest began to loosen.  Soon he was able to find his footing and unsteadily get on with the process of getting clean. 

As he fumbled with the top to the shampoo he read the instructions: lather, rinse, repeat.  Why couldn’t everything be that simple he mused as he squeezed a handful of the amber liquid into his hair and worked it in.  Everything else was complicated by layers and layers of meaning, nothing was what it seemed.  He felt like a newborn, innocent and fresh suddenly thrust into an adult world he didn’t understand.

The whole of his existence as far as he could remember consisted of approximately sixteen hours of confusion, pain, and question after question that he couldn’t answer.  The local people he had met had been professional but distant.  The sheriff, the deputy, the doctor, all of them had treated him like an outsider, someone to be wary of so he had carefully kept himself apart as he was certain they wanted him to do.  Against his initial reaction, he was thankful for Special Agent Gibbs and his team for they were strangers here, too. 

He felt safe with them all but the only real peace he’d known all day had come when he’d been with Tony.  He knew the agent had only been doing his job, Tony had admitted as much, but he’d treated John like a real person and not an unidentified witness to a hideous massacre.  He’d even given John a name when no one else had considered it important.  Tony had smiled freely and often and had touched him in concern several times and John naively perhaps chose not to see it as an act.  He liked Tony best he decided as he rinsed his hair.

 

***

 

Just about the time Tony started to worry the water finally stopped and John came out of the bathroom drying his hair.  He dropped the towel in the sink and bent to retrieve his clothes.

“Don’t put those back on,” Tony instructed, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Why not?”

“They stink.  Kate’s bringing you something else to wear.”

“What do I do in the meantime?”

“Tie a towel around your waist,” Tony suggested offhandedly.

John picked up the damp towel and did as he was told.  “Is this okay?” he asked dubiously.

“Sure,” Tony approved, still preoccupied with the TV.  “It’s just us guys.”

“So, uh, what are you watching?”  John asked almost shyly as he made his way to sit on the foot of the bed on the other side.

“Porn.”

“Oh.” John squinted at the screen without a clue.  “Is this the Discovery Channel?” he asked after a moment of stunned silence.

Tony stared at him blankly for a second before busting out with a laugh.  “I guess that all depends on who’s watching it,” he finally managed, still snickering as he turned his attention back to the show.  “For you, it probably is.”

“I know what sex is,” John objected distractedly, obviously fascinated by the onscreen action.  “I just don’t remember ever doing it.”  He got an unintelligible grunt for a response and they continued to watch with only sporadic commentary, for the most part studiously ignoring one another. 

Sometime later muffled voices in the hall and a tap on the door startled Tony into movement.  He randomly punched the remote to change the channel and rolled to his feet in one smooth motion, then covertly adjusted himself through the front pocket of his jeans before scrambling for the locks. 

“Don’t say anything to Gibbs about the porn,” Tony warned in a hushed voice, but John was still gaping at the TV.

“Hey,” Kate greeted when he finally opened the door. 

Tony took the flat box with their dinner in it from her overburdened arms, catching a glimpse of Gibbs with their baggage as he disappeared into the room next door.

“Oh my God,” Kate gasped as she slipped by Tony, at least six blue plastic Wal-Mart bags dangling from her arms as she headed straight for John.

After depositing the food on top of the dresser Tony manually clicked off the TV, catching only a glimpse of the great pyramid of Giza as it faded to black.  “What?” he asked turning back to Kate as she slid her arms free from the bags, dropping them onto the bed, pausing only for a moment to note that there was only the one.

John rose to his feet, looking unsteady and pale as he stared at the blank TV screen.  He swallowed nervously then seemed to snap out of it, color rising back to his cheeks as Kate got up close and personal to examine his bare midriff.

“You poor thing,” Kate sympathized running her fingers up his ribcage.

“I’m fine,” John assured her, a catch in his voice as he tried to back away. 

Kate captured him firmly but gently by the still scruffy chin to examine the bruise on his temple.  “This is odd,” she remarked before John eased out of her grasp.

DiNozzo frowned as he studied John’s face then glanced down at the towel just to make sure it wasn’t unduly tented, relieved for John to find that it wasn’t.  He hadn’t realized the entertainment for the evening had been bothering the witness, in fact he would have bet his last dollar the man was enjoying the education.  His guilt trip was cut short by a harsh rap on the interior door that connected to the next room and he moved to it quickly, pushing over the lock to let Gibbs in.

“Never go underwear shopping with Kate,” Gibbs declared fervently as he brushed into the room, a tall cup of coffee in his hands.  “And why the hell didn’t you get double beds?”

“They were fresh out, boss,” Tony declared with an inscrutable expression.  “Well, they had one, but the room it was connected to was already taken.  I went for security over modesty,” he finished, smirking at Kate.

“Our room is a king, too?” Kate asked irately. 

“Don’t you trust Gibbs?  Or is it yourself you don’t trust?”

“Enough,” Gibbs barked.  “I’m gonna tell you like I told Kate, whatever this crap is between you two it’s gonna stop or you’re both gonna be looking for a new job.  Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Tony replied, certain Kate had gotten a much worse ass-chewing without an audience, secretly pleased by the thought.  “Let’s eat.”

Gibbs glared at both of them then grimaced when he caught sight of John who was quietly watching the proceedings with wide eyes.  “That’s gotta hurt.”

“I got you some Motrin,” Kate said turning to John as she dumped the contents of the shopping bags one by one until she found what she was looking for.  “You should take it with food so it doesn’t upset your stomach.”  She tore off the box and the protective wrapper, opened the childproof lid then tossed away the cotton ball before finally shaking two of the pills into her hand.

“Thank you,” John smiled self-consciously as he took the offering and popped them into his mouth, turning to the sink to take a handful of water from the tap to wash them down. He graciously forgot to mention he already had some.

“I also got you a razor, a toothbrush, a comb, some antibiotic ointment for your wrists and some Sudafed.  I noticed you sounded a little congested in the car.  You probably have allergies and I’m sure hanging out in that dusty room all day didn’t help,” Kate rambled as she sat the handful of items on the sink.  “Take two of these,” she instructed, unwrapping the allergy medicine.

A little overwhelmed, John shot a bewildered look to Tony and Gibbs who watched their teammate fusing over him with unconcealed amusement. 

“She’s a profiler,” Tony explained with a shrug.  “She notices things like how people… breathe.”

“Kate, why don’t you give him something to wear?” Gibbs suggested helpfully.

Kate looked up at Gibbs and then back to the near naked but oh so sculpted body next to her.  “Right.  Actually, John, you’re a little more muscular than I first though.  Some of this might be a little tight.”

Gibbs snorted and took a long drink of coffee.

“Sure, Kate,” DiNozzo teased, “So much for your observational skills.”

Ignoring them, Kate handed John a three pack of boxer-briefs, a pack of tee-shirts, and a pair of navy blue sweat pants.  “I got you some jeans and a shirt for tomorrow.  Oh, and some sneakers.  And socks.”

“I… I don’t have any money,” John stammered, obviously embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Kate soothed.  “I put it on Gibbs’ expense account.”

“Thank you,” John said sincerely.

“Don’t worry about it.  I’m gonna charge it back to Tucker anyway,” Gibbs dismissed the gratitude uncomfortably.

“Go put on some clothes so we can eat,” Tony urged as he moved the food over to the round table with two comfortable chairs in front of the windows. 

John went into the bathroom to dress while Tony grabbed the small desk chair and Gibbs ducked back into the other room to get one more.  Feeling strangely maternal, Kate gathered John’s old clothes and folded them, placing them in one of the empty Wal-Mart bags before putting the rest of the bounty away. 

“How’s he doing?” Gibbs inquired as he lugged the chair through the door and over to the table as Tony pulled the drink holder out of the box.

“I don’t think he’s mad at me anymore,” Tony reported thoughtfully, setting the box out of the way and rummaging through the bags.  “But I don’t think he’s remembered anything else either.  In fact, I think he’s trying not to.” A stray fry found its way to his mouth as he sorted out a burger for each of them.

Kate finished arranging the toiletries on the sink and joined them at the table.  “What do you think?” Tony asked her as they both settled in.

“I agree.  I think there’s something so horrible lurking in this guy’s subconscious that he has literally willed it away.  I’m not sure making him remember would be the best thing for him.”

“If he doesn’t remember,” Gibbs retorted as he located his errant cup, “We may never find out what happened out there.”

The bathroom door opened and a much more contented John came out in the sweats and a tight, white tee-shirt, his hair slightly askew.  He put the packaging in the trash and dropped off the extra underwear on top of the bags in the closest then made his way to the table.  “Is that coffee?” he asked hopefully as he sniffed the air, his nose narrowing in on Gibbs.

“Maybe,” Gibbs answered evasively.

“I’m sorry, I got you soda.  But there’s another cup of coffee,” Kate smiled as John sat next to her.

“That’s mine, too,” Gibbs protested.

“Oh,” John said, sounding disappointed as he unwrapped the burger Tony plopped in front of him.  He took a big bite and chewed, making appreciate noises.  “This one’s better than the one at lunch.  It’s still hot.”

“You had a Big Mac for lunch, too?” Kate asked solicitously, still frowning at Gibbs for not sharing.

“McDonald’s was the only thing open on this end of town,” Gibbs grumbled, finally sitting down to eat.

“We’ll get you some real food tomorrow,” Tony promised through a mouthful of fries.  “And all the coffee you want.”

Gibbs made a disgusted noise and grabbed the other hot cup.  He popped the lid off both and split the full cup evenly.  “Here,” he offered sullenly. 

“Thanks,” John grinned, accepting the cup reverently.  His pushed the food aside and closed his eyes as he took his first sip.  “Mmmm.”

“How can you forget everything else but still remember coffee?” Tony asked as he finished his fries and the half of Kate’s that had been _accidentally_ spilled onto the table.

“Because coffee is important,” Gibbs answered for him as he fought back a grudging smile. 

“They gave me coffee at the clinic but cut me off after three cups.”

“Separated at birth,” Kate chided with a laugh.

“By about fifteen years,” Tony added fearlessly. 

“Can it, DiNozzo,” Gibbs warned, playfully threatening to smack him in the back of the head.  “Then when you’re done killing that burger set up a videoconference with Abby before you get back to your porn.”

“Porn?” Tony asked artlessly.  “This place has porn?”

“We were watching the Discovery Channel,” John added, hiding his smile behind his hard-earned coffee.

“They really were, I saw it,” Kate confirmed.  “It looked like something on the pyramids.”

John sat his cup down and hid his trembling hands under the table.

“John?” 

“Hmm?” John asked, deceptively calm as he snaked a hand out to grab his burger and take a bite, chewing slowly as if he wasn’t sure he’d actually be able to swallow it.

Tony studied him for a minute but let it pass.  Popping the last bite of his own dinner into his mouth he got up and went to get his laptop, taking it to the desk to locate the advertised high-speed internet connection.

Feeling slightly nauseated, John pushed the rest of his meal away in lieu of the coffee.  He held the cup close to his chest as he searched for something to say to break the suddenly unbearable silence around the table as they finished up.  “Navy you say,” was all he came up with.

“Naval Criminal Investigative Service,” Gibbs provided for the second time. 

“The Marines are actually a branch of the Navy so they fall under our jurisdiction as well,” Kate went on to explain.  “That’s why we’re here, one of the victims… one of the other victims was a Marine.”

“Ah.”  John nodded nervously and took another drink.  It still made no sense to him.

“Semper Fi,” Gibbs commented under his breath.

“Excuse me?” John asked, leaning forward with a spark of interest.

“It’s a Marine greeting.  It’s Latin; it means ‘always faithful’.”

“No,” John corrected, his brow creasing in thought.  “Always faithful, that would be semper fidelis, I think.”  He blinked back at the two sets of eyes suddenly staring at him.  “Is that right?” he asked warily, looking around anxiously for Tony who approached from behind and put a reassuring hand on the back of his chair.

“Technically, yeah…” Gibbs granted slowly.

“Let’s try another one,” Kate suggested.  “Um, let me think… noli me tangere.”

“Touch me not,” John translated without hesitation.

Tony snorted lightly.  “Only you, Kate.  John, say this in Latin,” he proposed, “It's not the heat, it's the humidity.”

“Non calor sed umor est qui nobis incommodat.”

“Is that right?” Gibbs asked this time, looking at Tony then Kate.

“Beats me,” Tony shrugged as he sat down.  “It sounded good.  Say ‘the designated hitter rule has got to go’.”

“Lex clavatoris designati rescindenda est.”

“So he knows a little Latin,” Gibbs shrugged.

“No,” Kate shook her head in amazement.  “He’s not pulling out a common word or phrase.  He’s very confident in his responses.  I’d say he’s fluent in Latin even if we don’t know what he’s saying.”

“Is that a scroll in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?”

John paused and eyed Tony uncertainly before speaking.  “Estne volumen in toga, an solum tibi libet me videre?”

“That’s enough,” Gibbs decided with an aggravated sigh.  “Did you hook up with Abby?”

“Not in the literal sense, but yeah,” Tony joked.  “She had to answer a call for another case, though.  She’ll be right back.”

“Tony, Kate, let’s go into the other room for a minute.”

“You’re going to talk about me?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Gibbs admitted truthfully.  “Don’t answer the door, stay away from the windows, and don’t try to use the phone.  If you’re not here when we get back, I’m going to shoot you.”

“But if I’m not here how can you…”

“Just don’t even think about leaving,” Gibbs interrupted sternly.

John held up his hands in supplication as the agents moved to the connecting door. 

The last one to leave, Tony smiled at him. “It’s okay.  I’ll be right back,” he said as he pulled the door shut.

The little amount of coffee that remained in his cup was growing cold so John drained it in one gulp and stuffed the empty into one of the bags.  He poked at the remains of his food but ended up folding it up in the wrapper and tossing it too.  Before he could clean the rest of the table a female voice called from the other side of the room.

“Yo!  Tony!”

Looking around in surprise, John checked the TV to make sure it was really off.

“Gibbs?  Kate?”

The voice seemed to be coming from the desk so John approached it guardedly.  “Hello?”

“Hello.”

John’s jaw dropped when he realized the tiny woman in black on the much smaller screen was actually interacting with him, though her movements appeared a little jerky and her voice faded in and out ever so slightly.  “Hi,” he greeted again, mentally going over Gibbs’ orders.  Nowhere on the list was talking to the TV so he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the computer closer to the edge of the desk.

“Whoa!  Back up a little, I can’t see you,” the woman requested.  “See the camera?”

“No.”

“The little round thingy?  Looks like an alien?  One eye?”

“Alien?” John asked in confusion, certain he would know an alien if he saw one.  “This thing?” he pointed to the webcam.

“Yeah, turn it a little to the… yeah, yeah, that’s it.  Stop!  Right there, I gotcha.  And may I just say ‘wow’.  You’re a babe.  Who are you?”

“I’m, uh, John.  Well not really, that’s just what Tony decided to call me.  John Doe.”

“Oh yeah, you’re the witness,” the girl crooned sympathetically.  “You poor guy.  I’m Abby.”

“Hi Abby,” John repeated his salutation a little more enthusiastically, thrilled to meet somebody new, somebody perhaps a little stranger than he was.

“So tell me about yourself.”

“Um, I like coffee… and apparently I speak Latin.  That’s pretty much it.”

“You know Tony can help you with your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing a little mousse can’t fix,” Abby assured with a broad grin.  “I’ll clue Tony in for you.  What happened to your face?”

John fingered his temple and realized it was a bit sore.  “I don’t remember.”

“Huh.  So… you got any tats?”

“What’s a tat?”

 

***

 

“Hi,” the handsome young man smiled as he leaned on the counter.

Louise sighed, unmoved by his obvious charms.  She was tired, her feet hurt and her back ached after the hellish shift she’d just pulled.  Not to mention the fact that she knew a big juicy secret and she couldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.  The night clerk would be in in only fifteen more minutes but no, she just couldn’t catch a break.  “What can I do for you?” she asked indifferently.

“Actually, it’s more like what I can do for you.”  He held up a stiff new one-hundred-dollar bill between his forefinger and thumb.  “I need some information.”

Knowing more or less where the conversation was headed, Louise shook her head tersely.  Losing her job and going to jail were not on the top of her to-do list.  Not for a measly hundred bucks, although it was tempting.

The stranger stroked his thumb along the back of the C-note and like magic it multiplied by five.  “No one will ever know but you and me,” he persuaded, holding the money like a hand of playing cards and fanning it gently under her nose.

“What do you want to know?” Louise asked, reaching for the money with a greedy gleam in her eye.

 

***

 

Gibbs turned to his people as soon as they were through the door.  “Well?”

“He could be a translator for the UN.  That might be why they grabbed him,” Kate suggested.

“Uh, yeah, last time I checked, Latin’s a dead language,” Tony pointed out acerbically.

“I just thought maybe he speaks other languages as well.  Some people don’t stop at one or two if they have a knack for it, and frankly, that sounded like a knack to me.  On the other hand, there are certain jobs where Latin is still spoken.”

“I guarantee that man is not a priest,” Gibbs scoffed.  “He’s looking more and more like a soldier.  Or maybe a spook.”

“One of ours?” Kate asked.

“Don’t know.  It’s just an impression. Tony, you get anything else?”

“Yeah, uh, he’s got a healed gunshot wound on the back of his thigh that doesn’t look very old,” Tony brought up reluctantly.

“That’s interesting,” Gibbs replied.  “Give me your weapon.”

Tony frowned at Kate as he handed over his Sig Sauer.  “What?  He was getting into the shower, I noticed the scar.  I wasn’t looking at his ass.”

“Did I say anything?”

“Everything is homoerotic with you lately.  I gotta tell you, Kate, it’s getting old.”

“I think you’re protesting too much,” Kate replied coyly.  “Besides, it’s not like you don’t give me plenty of ammunition.”

“Like what?” Tony asked incredulously.

“Is that a scroll in your toga or are you just happy to see me,” Kate quoted.

“Stop,” Gibbs warned as he released the clip and handed it back to Tony. “Speaking of ammunition, empty that,” he instructed as he checked the chamber.  “You think he might speak something other than Latin?”

“It’s possible,” Kate shrugged.

“I’ll try a little Spanish on him,” Tony said crabbily as he freed the rounds one by one until the clip was empty.

“I know a phrase or two in German,” Kate volunteered.

“Okay, good,” Gibbs agreed as he took the cleared clip from Tony and slapped it into the gun before sticking the whole thing into the back of his waistband.  “Did you notice anything else?”

“He definitely works out,” Kate mentioned.  “Well he does,” she sulked as her coworkers both rolled their eyes. 

Gibbs shook his head as he opened the door and passed through, leaving Kate and DiNozzo to argue in his wake.  John was at the mirror with his shirt pulled up.  “What are you doing?” Gibbs inquired drolly.

“Looking for tats?” John replied uncertainly, lowering his shirt and lifting his head just as Gibbs brought the gun out from behind his back.  He spun so fast, Gibbs didn’t have time to react to the hand at his throat or the leg sweep that took him down. 

“John!” Tony shouted, already on his back and grabbing the arm that pinned Gibbs’ gun hand.

“Easy,” Gibbs ordered as he stopped struggling, looking up into the wild eyes of the man on top of him. 

“Come on, John,” Tony urged gently. 

John swallowed then slowly released Gibbs as Tony pulled him back, holding him around the chest from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” John swore, heaving for breath.  “But why?  I didn’t try to leave.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you,” Gibbs soothed, looking a little shell shocked as Kate helped him sit up and hovered by his shoulder.  “That was a stupid move on my part.  I should have known you would react that way.”

“I didn’t even think about it, I just reacted.”  John sagged against Tony as the adrenaline rush subsided.  “How could you know?”

Gibbs let out a pained laugh as he rubbed his throat.  “Well for starters, you fought against your kidnappers.  There was blood down the back of your jacket but none on your shirt.”

“So it had to be his blood,” John reasoned, still slightly breathless.

“I figure you head-butted the guy that grabbed you from behind,” Gibbs explained.

“And you were good and dirty which points to a physical altercation, probably rolling around on the ground,” Tony agreed.  “Plus, they couldn’t have punched you in the back while you were handcuffed to that chair.  You didn’t go easy.” 

Tony climbed to his feet and offered John a hand up while Kate assisted Gibbs.

Gibbs gingerly pressed on his hip to check for damage, and then tested his weight bearing ability.  Satisfied nothing but his pride was injured he faced John.  “Let’s try this again.”

“What?” John looked uneasy as he rubbed his own sore back.

“Just relax,” Gibbs instructed as he handed him the weapon butt first this time.

John accepted it with a sigh, frowning at the weight.  He checked the clip first, then the chamber before engaging the safety even though he now knew the gun wasn’t loaded.  Lowering his arm to hold it straight down to his side, he looked at Gibbs questioningly.  His grip was comfortable and firm with his finger resting lightly over the trigger.

Gibbs and Tony exchanged deliberate glances as DiNozzo reached out to retrieve his weapon.

“What?” John asked again, relinquishing it immediately. 

“I’d say that’s a natural fit.”

“You know your way around handguns,” Tony interpreted, slipping the gun back into his holster then digging the bullets out of his pocket to reload the clip. 

“John!   Tony?  Anybody?” 

“Abby,” Kate called out as she trotted over to the desk.  “Hey!”

“What’s going on?” Abby scolded.  “I couldn’t see!  What was all that noise?”

“Oh, Gibbs pulled one of his little experiments without warning anyone and it backfired on him.”

“It didn’t backfire,” Gibbs argued.  “It told me a hell of a lot.”

“Right, a hell of a lot he’s obviously not going to share with the rest of us,” Kate confided to Abby.

“Give him time.  Gibbs likes to pick his moments.  So did John find anything?”

“What kind of anything, Abs?” Gibbs questioned apprehensively as he shooed Kate out of the way and took her place in front of the camera. 

“Tattoos, piercings, you know, body art.”

“Ask Tony.  Apparently he’s seen the whole package,” Kate laughed as Tony glared at her and John looked back and forth between them, not quite blushing. 

“What have you got on the prints found in the cabin, Abby?” Gibbs requested with the patience he always seemed to hold in reserve for the spirited forensic tech.

“Okay, we hit the jackpot right off the bat with two sets in the military database.  Both were Marines, one active, one not.”

“Lance Corporal Jeremy K. Murdock?” Gibbs queried knowingly.

“Yep, that’s our active duty guy.  He’s been in for four years but quit showing up for his guard duty gig three days ago.  Officially he’s listed as UA.”

“Well now he’s DOA,” Tony remarked, replacing the clip and sliding the gun back into his holster.

“Yeah, that’s the one we have dog tags for,” Gibbs said with a nod.  “What about the other one?”

“Master Sergeant Andrew Weber, no middle initial, called it quits when his enlistment was up last year after putting in eighteen.”

“Nobody walks away that close to retirement,” Gibbs argued.  “Where was he stationed?”

“It’s hard to say, I think his record has been scrubbed.  There’s some nonsense about deep space radar telemetry at NORAD, but it looks pretty bogus to me.  My friend Ashton at NASA has never heard of it either.  He thinks it might be a cover for some dark ops.  I’m exploring other avenues.”

“Any of this sound familiar to you?” Gibbs asked, turning to John.

“Maybe,” John said, licking his lip and looking concerned.  “Just, uh… what’s a NORAD?”

Gibbs grunted and turned back to Abby.  “What about John Doe here?”

“No database match yet, but he was definitely in the cabin.”

“We already knew that.”

“Oh, and no match on the fourth set of prints either.  And I don’t think we’re gonna get one.”

“Why not?”

“Because unless bachelor number four just miraculously had the exact same scar on every single finger, his prints were surgically altered.”

“Curioser and curioser,” Tony replied.

“ETA on the bodies is like two hours from now and Ducky has been chomping at the bit ever since talking to you.  The rest of the evidence should arrive some time before dawn, but I’ll hang out here in case Ducky finds anything on the any of the bods.”

“Thanks, Abs.  Good job.”

“Wait!  Let me talk to John,” Abby requested before Gibbs could terminate the connection.

Gibbs released a long-suffering sigh and moved away as John sat on the edge of the bed and without needing to be told again readjusted the camera.  “Hi Abby,” he said with a shy smile.

“Did you find anything?”

“No,” John reported, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Don’t feel bad.  I’ll show you the rest of mine when you get here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now let me talk to Tony.”

“Christ,” Gibbs swore, checking his gun and moving to the door.  “I’m gonna take a quick look around outside before we bunk down.  Don’t chat too long.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kate said.

“Something up, boss?”

“Just being cautious,” Gibbs assured.  “Abby, I’ll talk to you first thing in the morning.” 

“Sure thing, Boss Man.”

Gibbs opened the door and glanced out into the hall.  “Take the lobby.  I’ll go down the stairs on the end.  Meet me back here in ten minutes,” he told Kate as they left. 

“Tony?”

“What’s up, Abs,” Tony asked, leaning over John into view. 

“Mousse,” Abby ordered, gesturing with her fingers.  “Do the spiky thing.”

Tony ran his hand through his longish hair.  “You know I’m trying to get away from that look.”

“Not you, igmo, John!”

“Igmo?”

“Yeah, it’s shorthand for ignoramus,” Abby teased.  “Promise me you’ll make him look good.  It shouldn’t be hard.”

“Abby, have I been replaced in your affections?” Tony asked, pretending to be hurt as he held a hand over his heart.

“Time and time again,” Abby grinned back at him.  “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye Abby,” John said with a timid little wave.

“Bye sweetie…” Abby purred as Tony disconnected the link and she disappeared. 

“Oops.”

“I like Abby,” John decided.

Tony grinned. “This is gonna kill McGee.”

 

***

 

“What’s the big emergency?” Jack asked, still wearing civvies as he entered the briefing room and dropped his small carryall to the floor.  He checked his watch then studied the other half of his similarly attired team.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Major Carter reported as she stood from zipping an overnight bag.  “We were just asked to pack a bag and meet you here.”

“General Hammond has been preoccupied with phone calls since our arrival,” Teal’c added from his location near the window overlooking the Stargate.  “I believe him to be most displeased.”

“You don’t think Daniel upset the apple cart in Washington, do you?” Jack asked casually.  “Ruffled a few feathers maybe?”

“I doubt it, sir,” Sam smirked.  “Daniel is very diplomatic.  That’s why they sent him and not you.”

“Ha,” Jack scoffed.  “He’s also stubborn, insubordinate, and sarcastic as hell.  You’d a thought Oma would have drilled some of that out of him while he was out there floating around the galaxy.”

“SG-1,” General Hammond greeted solemnly as he entered the room and took a seat at the table.  The present three-fourths of the team found chairs as well.  “Have any of you had contact with Doctor Jackson since he left for Washington?”

“Nope,” Jack answered for the increasingly uneasy group.  “But he’s only been gone since yesterday.  He’ll probably call tomorrow if he’s not too busy hobnobbing with the brass.  What’s going on, sir?”

“I spoke to Major Davis at the Pentagon earlier this evening,” Hammond began gravely.  “He informed me how much easier the briefing to the Oversight Committee would have gone if Doctor Jackson had been present.”

“What?” Jack asked in surprise.  “Daniel ditched the big meeting?”

Hammond held up a hand to forestall further questions until he could finish.  “Then he told me he understood how painful a slipped disc could be and to tell Doctor Jackson to get better soon.”

“Daniel Jackson sustained no such injury.”

“Sir, I took Daniel to the airport myself,” Sam gasped.  “I saw him pass through security to the gates.”

“And he got off of the plane in Washington,” Hammond assured.  “That’s been confirmed by airport security tapes.”

“So where is he now?”

“All we know is a uniformed Marine met Doctor Jackson at Dulles.  They left the terminal together.”

“Davis sent a Marine to pick Daniel up?” Jack asked doubtfully.

“No, in fact he canceled the car he’d arraigned when he got the message that Doctor Jackson wasn’t coming.”

“Oh God,” Sam breathed.  “Somebody took him.”

“Major Davis has reported the incident to the proper authorities.”

Teal’c clenched his jaw slightly but didn’t comment.

“Permission to take my team on a field trip, sir.”

“Granted, Colonel, but I don’t have to remind you…”

“I know, sir,” Jack sighed as they grabbed their bags and swiftly moved to the stairs, “It’s unofficial.”

“For now,” Hammond agreed as they clattered down the metal steps.  “Bring him home safe,” he requested to the empty room.

 

***

 

After cleaning off the table Tony taught John the finer points of solitaire.  At the sound of the door opening in the next room, he reached for his gun and motioned for the witness to get down.  John immediately rose to his feet and followed him towards the inner door instead.

“It’s us,” Gibbs announced, entering the room with Kate right behind him. 

Tony relaxed his stance but shot John a disapproving look which John chose to ignore.

“The parking lot looks like a damned network news convention and we settled right in the thick of it.”

“It is the closest motel to the fishing camp,” Kate pointed out.  “It’s not like we planned it.”

“Yeah, and they don’t know we’re here.  Yet,” Tony replied.  “The clerk who checked us in figured us out but I swore her to secrecy.”

John cleared his throat.  “Actually, he threatened to throw her in jail,” he elaborated.

“That’s our Tony,” Kate remarked wryly. “Subtle.”

“Gracias, amigo” Tony replied sarcastically to John, “Por pegar un cuchillo en mi parte posteriora.”

“Usted es agradable.   No piense nada en él,” John retorted with a smile.

“Smart ass,” Tony huffed.  “Well, apparently our little polyglot here speaks Spanish as well as Latin.”

“We’re not going to do party tricks again, are we?” John asked charily.

“Why don’t you just save time and tell us if you speak any other languages?” Gibbs asked gruffly.

“Because I don’t know,” John insisted.  “I didn’t know that I spoke Spanish until I heard what Tony said and then I just understood and answered.”

“Kate speaks German,” Tony remembered.

“I didn’t say that,” Kate objected immediately.  “I said I knew a few phrases in German… well, one actually.”

 “Let’s hear it,” Gibbs prodded.

“Okay, um, keep in mind it’s been awhile,” Kate warned John.

“How long,” Tony just had to ask.

“College,” Kate explained.  “One of my sorority sisters set me up with her German cousin before graduation and had me learn a traditional greeting to make him feel at home.  He turned out to be a real jerk…” Kate trailed off at Gibbs annoyed look.  “Never mind.  Uh, let’s see… my pronunciation will probably be appalling.”

“Spit it out!”

“Okay, okay.  Kommen sie ich mit dine hosen in dine han.  There,” Kate said proudly.  “That came out better than I thought it would.”

John stared at her and rubbed a hand slowly down his face.

“I’d say German’s a bust,” Tony noted.

“I don’t think so,” Gibbs countered, watching John’s reaction closely.

John raised a finger as if to make a point.  “You say a friend taught you to say that?”

“Well, no, more of an acquaintance.  In fact, we had a little tiff over a man our sophomore year and I don’t think she ever really got over it.  Why?  Was the pronunciation that bad?”

“Yeah, ah… it was appalling.  But what do you think you just said?”

“It’s a simple ‘nice to meet you’ kind of greeting,” Kate explained with a pout.  “I forget the exact meaning.”

John winced.

“What’d she really say?” Tony practically begged, grinning wolfishly.

“I’m just guessing, because, really, the pronunciation was…”

“I said it had been awhile…”

“What did she say,” Gibbs cut in.

 “Come and see me with your pants in your hand,” John translated sympathetically.

“That bitch,” Kate exclaimed under her breath as Tony howled. 

“Alright, settle down,” Gibbs ordered after allowing Tony a minute to get it out of his system, barely managing to keep a neutral expression himself.  Tony finally wiped his eyes and tried in vain to keep a straight face as Kate brooded.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Gibbs instructed, looking at his watch. “It’s almost twenty-three hundred now and I want us _on the road_ by oh five thirty.  Maybe we can sneak out of here before the news people catch wind of us.  Tonight we’ll each do two hour shifts.”

“I can pull a watch,” John volunteered, quickly doing the math in his head.

“What?” Gibbs asked. 

“That’s what you mean, right?  That each of you will pull a two-hour watch.  If you let me do one too then everybody gets more sleep.”

“John, buddy, you are what we’ll be watching,” Tony broke the news.

“Oh,” John uttered in surprise.  “Sorry, I forgot.  This just felt so… familiar.”

“Tony, you‘ve been babysitting the longest so you can go last,” Gibbs granted.  “Kate, do you want first or second watch?”

“First, if you don’t mind.  I can never get back to sleep if I have to get up during the night.”

“Suits me,” Gibbs granted.  “Okay, Tony, let’s go.”

“Get some rest,” Tony told John, patting him on the back as he grabbed his pack and followed Gibbs to the other room.

“Is that really what I said?” Kate turned to ask John as soon as the door closed and Tony was out of earshot.

John nodded sheepishly.  “Yeah.  Sorry.”

Kate smiled a little and tried to herd him towards the bed.  “Come on, get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” John insisted, standing firm.  “I feel fine after the nap in the car and then a shower and some coffee.  I feel like I could stay up all night.”

“You should at least try to rest.”

John groaned in frustration, scratching his head.  “I wish I had something to read.  They had magazines at the clinic.”

“Yeah?” Kate teased.  “You must have picked up lots of tips on dating and diets.”

“And cooking,” John joked.  “I still don’t understand why the one that said ‘lose thirty pounds in thirty days’ had a picture of a chocolate cake on the cover.”

“Nobody understands that, John,” Kate chuckled.  “Don’t you want to at least try to sleep?”

“I don’t think so,” John sighed forlornly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to close my eyes.  I… I see things,” John admitted.

“You’ll have to sleep eventually,” Kate advised, reaching out to him but pulling back when he crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off.  “You can’t fight the memories forever.”

“When I get tired enough, I’ll sleep,” John promised.  He looked at the TV but shook his head and sat on the end of the bed dejectedly instead of turning it on. 

Kate watched him surreptitiously glance at the closed door between the rooms, finally understanding the real problem.  “I know!” she exclaimed with a sudden flash of inspiration.  She went to the far nightstand and pulled out the drawer.  “Ah ha!  Here you go.”  She handed him the bible with a smile.  “This ought to keep you busy for a while.”

“Thanks,” John replied gratefully as he crawled up the bed next to the lamp and settled in to read, squinting at the page.

Kate sat down at the table where she could see both doors and John.  She gathered the cards and quietly shuffled them, wondering if Tony was aware just how much the witness had come to depend on him.

“Listen to this…” John started animatedly as he got up from the bed and joined her at the table.

 

***

 

Opening the door a crack Kate peeked into the room, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.  Finally she could see well enough to know that Gibbs was laying face down on top of the covers closest to her, fully clothed including his boots.  An unidentified lump under the covers on the other side of the bed snored a lot like Tony.

“Gibbs,” Kate whispered as she crossed the room, tripping on a shoe that by the process of elimination had to be Tony’s.  Gibbs twitched and muttered something unintelligible in response.  “Gibbs,” she said a little louder and reached for his shoulder only to be met halfway by a hand.

“Everything okay?” Gibbs asked in a sleep roughened voice as he rolled over and sat up with an involuntary moan of pain.

“Yeah, all’s quiet,” Kate assured.  “Are you okay?”

Gibbs nodded and yawned, checked his gun and headed into the other room.

“And good morning to you, too,” Kate muttered as the door shut practically in her face.  She went to the sink and turned on the light to do an abbreviated version of her nighttime ritual, removing makeup and brushing her teeth.  Then she slipped into the bathroom to do her business and get a quick shower.

Ten minutes later she came out wearing an oversized basketball jersey and carrying her carefully folded clothes.  Leaving the light on in the bathroom she pulled the door almost completely shut behind her and headed for the bed, kicking a shoe out of the way and depositing her clothes on the nightstand.  She stopped cold as she reached for the covers. 

“Tony, you’d better not be naked under there,” she warned.

“You wish,” Tony answered groggily, not bothering to come out of his burrow.

With that faint assurance Kate apprehensively pulled back the covers on her side and slipped under them.  She closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she settled in.  The bed felt wonderful to her tired body and Tony was far enough away she couldn’t even feel the heat from his body.

“Sure beats sleepin’ at your desk, huh?” Tony asked, sounding barely awake.

“Yeah,” Kate laughed lightly.  “Go back to sleep.” 

Tony was quiet for a few minutes but his breathing never evened out. 

“John’s okay,” Kate promised.  The silence lasted so long Kate almost though he had gone back to sleep.

“I can’t believe I let him get to me,” Tony confessed softly.  “I really shouldn’t care, should I?”

“It’s okay to care,” Kate insisted reaching over to touch him on the back of the shoulder.  “He looks up to you, you know.”

“You think so?” Tony asked, rolling over to peek out at her from the shroud of sheet and blanket.

“I definitely think so.  You’re the closest thing to a peer he’s got.  Heaven help us, but you’re his mentor.”

“Yeah, I like that,” Tony grinned sleepily then rolled back over and adjusted the blanket.  “Thanks, Kate.”

“Good night, Tony.”

Long moments passed and again, Tony’s breathing never changed.

“What?” Kate asked at last, knowing she would never be able to fall asleep in a bed with a conscious Anthony DiNozzo.

“You’re not wearing that little red negligee are you?” Tony asked in a pseudo-sexy voice.

Kate laughed out loud.  “ _You_ wish.”

“I want to be buried with that thing.”

“Keep it up and you’re going to be buried _in_ that thing and a whole lot sooner than you expect.”

Tony chuckled then quieted.  A minute later his breathing evened out and he was once again dead to the world.

 

***

 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Gibbs inquired brusquely as he entered the room and went straight through to the bathroom, leaving the door open as he peed.  “Well?” he prodded a minute later when he stepped back out to the sink to wash his hands.

“I wasn’t tired,” John mumbled distractedly without looking up.

Gibbs made a disbelieving sound and got himself a glass of water.  “Can I take some of your Motrin?”

“Sure.  There’s some stronger stuff in the brown bottle.”

“Thanks,” Gibbs muttered, finding it and holding it at arm’s length to read the label before popping off the top and taking one of the large orange pills. “Want coffee?” he asked grudgingly.

John finally looked up.  “You can get some?” 

Gibbs pointed to the little two-cup coffeemaker on the counter with one filter and one small bag of grounds.  “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not great.”

Laying the book down, John got up from where he sat at the table and watched with great interest while Gibbs went about setting the pot to brew.  “That’s it?”

“That’s it.  Give it a minute.”  Gibbs walked over to the table and picked up the green hardcover book.  “This is what had you so enthralled?”

 

“Yes.  It’s incredible, I… I can’t believe it was just lying around in a drawer in this very room,” John stuttered excitedly, talking fast.  “I mean what are the chances?”

“Pretty good, actually, it’s been in print for a _really_ long time.”

“Really.  You’ve read it?”

“Not the whole thing,” Gibbs snorted.  “I’ve read parts of it.”

“These stories… I know these stories,” John continued in awed fascination.  “Kate also seemed very familiar with them.  She could actually quote passages.”

Gibbs smiled a little at the thought of a young Kate in Sunday school.  “I’m not surprised.”  They waited in silence until the drip began to slow.

John closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he took a deep breath.  “I love the smell of coffee,” he declared.

This time Gibbs chortled softly.  “Me, too,” he admitted as he poured the hot black liquid almost equally into two cups then handed one over.

John cautiously lifted the steaming drink to his lips and took a sip.  “It’s good.”

“Salute,” Gibbs replied, making a face as he too sampled the coffee.  “It’s terrible.”

“I’ll drink it,” John offered.

“Forget it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They took seats at the table and drank their prized java in silence until it was gone.  Finally Gibbs leveled his gaze at the witness.  “I want to ask you something.”

John blinked and looked down at his empty cup, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.  “Go ahead.”

“Why did you pull your punches?”

“What?”

“You caught me by surprise.  You could have easily injured me or even killed me but you didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You thought I was going to shoot you,” Gibbs pointed out impatiently.

“I know,” John admitted, knotting his brow together as he thought about it.  “I just… I don’t know.” 

After a moment of silence it became clear John wasn’t going to offer any more insight into the matter so Gibbs accepted the odd proclamation at face value.  “Do me a favor.”

“I’ll try.”

“If your life is in danger again, don’t hold back.  Keeping in mind of course that none of us are going to hurt you.”

John gave a terse nod then retrieved the bible and got up.

“No way,” Gibbs refused, taking it from him.  “Nobody reads the whole bible in one night.  It’s time for you to get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” John protested.  The lie was made obvious as he stifled a yawn.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he studied John’s anxious face.  “I’m going to check in with Ducky and then I want you to at least close your eyes for a little while.”

“Okay,” John gave in reluctantly.  “Will Abby be there?”

“Probably,” Gibbs harrumphed as he got up to set up the computer.  He fumbled for a minute but then everything fell into place.  “Got it.”

“Hey Gibbs,” Abby greeted as soon as the link went through to the morgue.  “Where’s my boy?”

“If you mean the witness, he’s right here,” Gibbs grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed and adjusting the camera.

“Hi John!  Cool, you’re a night owl.”

“Hi Abby,” John answered, kneeling on the mattress behind Gibbs so he could see and be seen.

“Doctor Mallard, meet John Doe,” Abby introduced formally as an older gentleman stepped into view.  “John, this is Ducky.”

John nodded then broke into a smile.  “I get it… Mallard… Ducky.”

“Hello, John, I’m pleased to meet you,” Ducky hailed energetically.

“Hi.”

“I must say, the majority of John Does I’ve come across through the years have unfortunately been on my table.  Although we did recently make the acquaintance of a Jane Doe, but alas, she ended up there as well… or rather pieces of her…”

“Ducky,” Gibbs cut him off.  “Have you had a look at the bodies?”

“Given they’ve been here all of forty minutes I haven’t had much more than a look, but yes, I’ve managed a cursory examination of one of them.”

“And?”

“Cooked through and through.  More than cooked actually, burnt to a bloody crisp.  I dare say even the bone marrow has been boiled away.  A few hundred more degrees and they would have effectively been cremated.”

“It wasn’t lightning, was it?” John asked.

“Very doubtful, young man,” Ducky smiled his approval of the question.  “Although lightning can be very damaging to tissue, I’ve never seen it to this extent.  Generally there is a clearly demarcated entry and exit as well, but these poor souls are equally charred from head to toe as it were. 

“As for identification, I’m afraid all we can really do at the moment is wait on the dental records to arrive to sort out our two Marines until I can attempt to locate some useable DNA.  Perhaps the brain, although encased in the skull I’d imagine the heat would have intensified to the point of... “

“Try to stay on topic, Ducky,” Gibbs requested wearily.  “It’s late.”

“Yes, of course.  The clothing is almost totally burned away but there are small bits of metal interspersed with the remains.  I’m assuming watches and other jewelry.  Some of it is melted, the gold in particular.  Abby will be examining these items while I attempt autopsies.  It won’t be easy; they tend to crumble a bit when cut.”

“Cause of death?” Gibbs queried. 

“I’m ninety-nine percent certain it was some type of instant incineration.”

“But not by lightning.  So how?”

Ducky took off his glasses and frowned.  “Honestly I haven’t a clue.  However, I do recall once on a trip to Madrid…”

 

***

 

Gibbs looked up from watching CNN without the sound when Tony came through the door.  “I was just about to wake you.”

The younger agent tapped a button on his watch producing a rather tinny rendition of the Looney Tunes theme.  “I set my alarm.”

“Didn’t that wake Kate?”

Tony shrugged with an evil little smirk then rubbed his eyes.  “Didn’t seem to bother him,” he noted, nodding to where John lay sprawled on the far side of the bed.

“I’m surprised.  He hasn’t been out long.”

Sniffing the air, Tony surveyed the empty cups sitting on the table.  “You gave him coffee at bedtime?”

“What, is he three?” Gibbs snorted as he got up and headed to the door.  “That’s mother’s milk to true caffeine addicts like us.”

Tony shook his head as he watched Gibbs leave then moved to the bed to claim his former nest of pillows, stretching his socked feet out on top of the covers.  He flipped a few channels before deciding on an old Abbott and Costello movie.  A minute later the mattress beside him dipped as John tossed his own pillow up against the headboard and joined him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Scoot over,” Tony objected without looking.

“I can’t see from over there,” John countered in a quiet voice, obstinately not scooting.

With an annoyed sigh, Tony turned to glare at him as he grabbed for one of the pillows, planning to just let him have the good side of the bed.  When the stark terror on John’s face registered he halted his movement, realizing the other man was furtively seeking comfort and not merely trying to take control of the remote.  Inwardly he cursed himself for being such a sap but he settled back against the headboard.  “Bad dream?” he asked with concern.

“Bad,” John rasped out, ducking his head.  “Not a dream.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” John changed his mind about the physical proximity and tried to retreat but Tony latched onto the back of his tee-shirt and hauled him back. 

“Tell me,” Tony insisted, clicking off the TV. 

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No.  Come on, it might be important to the investigation.  No telling what’s camped out in your subconscious.”

“You’ll think I’m nuts.”

“I already think you’re nuts, you’ve got nothing to lose,” Tony teased, bumping his shoulder lightly against John’s.  “Sometimes when you say it out loud it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know, I’m not good with this touchy-feely stuff,” Tony confessed honestly.  “But that’s what I’ve heard.  It’s worth a shot.”

“It’s going to sound strange,” John stalled, still sitting way too close.

“I was a homicide detective, I’ve heard it all.  I promise, you’re not gonna surprise me.”

“It’s in a desert,” John started, glancing up nervously for Tony’s reaction.

“That makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah,” Tony encouraged.  “Desert Storm maybe, you’d have been about twenty-five, twenty-six I’m guessing.  Of course, it could have been a lot more recent.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it, just tell me about the dream and maybe it’ll give us a clue.”

“Okay,” John let out a long, slow breath.  “I see a pyramid in the middle of these endless sand dunes and I know there are people inside that I care about.  Then there’s a bright light from out of the sky...”

“Like a missile.”

“Um, no, not really, it’s more of a continuous stream of energy.”

“Like a ray gun.  Or what do you call it?  Photon torpedoes?  No, no phasers,” Tony provided, careful not to appear anything but attentive.

Picking up the amused undertone anyway, John glowered at him. 

“And the ray comes from,” Tony pointed upward, “the sky.”

“Yes,” John provided coldly.

“Where in the sky, exactly?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Tony shrugged.  “I’m not jumping to any conclusions here.”

“It was a space ship, all right?  A big, black triangular space ship.”

“That surprises me,” Tony finally admitted with a straight face.

“Tony, you’re an ass,” John growled heatedly, abandoning his pillow and moving away.

“Not so fast.” Tony caught him in a loose chokehold and pulled him close.  When he was sure John wasn’t going to bolt he relaxed his grip, leaving his arm around John’s shoulder as he patted him on the chest comfortingly.  “I’m sorry.  It was just a dream.  Okay?  People dream about all kinds of weird stuff.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” John persisted, getting agitated.  “It really happened, I’m not crazy.”

“So the pyramid blew up?”

“Yes, it exploded.  The whole area was destroyed.  The people died,” John’s voice cracked with emotion.  “And it was all my fault.  I was being punished; I think that’s why I had to watch.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just feel it,” John replied dejectedly, dropping his head into his hands.

“Where were you?” Tony asked, pulling his arm back to force John to raise his head and drop his hands.

“What?”

“If you were at the temple then you would be dead too and not here dreaming about it,” Tony reasoned.  “Right?”

“I wasn’t at the temple, I was…” John paused, making a face and clearly not wanting to verbalize the thought.

“On the spaceship,” Tony finished for him.

“No!  Well, yes, in a way…” John waffled.  “I was everywhere.  Or maybe nowhere, I don’t know.  I watched the whole thing from every angle, totally removed from it.”

“Like an out of body experience,” Tony speculated. 

“I didn’t exist in the physical sense at all, if that’s what you mean.  I wasn’t human; I was something else, something insignificant and all-encompassing at the same time.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.  I was… I was stardust.”

They sat still for a long while.  Tony kept his arm wrapped around John although he was no longer trying to get away, John’s slightly ragged respirations the only sound. 

“You’re not stardust now,” Tony soothed at last.  He sighed but didn’t say anything as John sunk lower into the bed and leaned his head back against his shoulder. 

Shooting a concerned glance at the door that separated the rooms Tony weighed his options.  If Kate caught him cuddling a male witness in bed he knew he’d never hear the end of it.  However, he was also aware that if he appeared to reject the tormented man now he wouldn’t ever reach him again and that, for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, was unacceptable.  The quiet holding seemed to do John a world of good as his breathing slowed and the slight tremors of panic and anxiety gradually abated. 

“Go back to sleep,” Tony urged with a squeeze and an unspoken ‘I’ve got you’. 

John relaxed a little more but never closed his eyes completely and Tony was content to watch each slow blink of lashes, mesmerized by the half-lidded blue.  He ached to make the pain he saw there go away and held on when he knew he should let go.  The warm, solid form in his arms felt good and he was happy to risk Gibbs’ wrath and Kate’s scorn for as long as John would allow.

“Why does Kate think you like to kiss men?” John asked without warning.

Tony startled back from his thoughts, uncomfortable with where they had taken him.  “That again?”

“Please?”

“Why are you so fixated on that topic?”

John shrugged tiredly.  “It’s a hell of a lot more interesting than my problems.”

“And a lot more embarrassing.”

“It’s more embarrassing to kiss a man than to be crazy?”

“I’m not gay,” Tony objected, dropping his arm in a knee-jerk reaction but still trapped under John’s weight.  “I made a mistake and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I told you my deep dark secret,” John persisted, turning his head to look up into Tony’s face.  “Tit for tat, remember?”

 “Do you ever forget anything?”

“Not since I forgot everything.  Tell me.”

Frowning at the stubborn set of John’s jaw Tony decided to make a deal.  “If I tell you what happened will you leave it alone?”

“Okay,” John agreed hastily, anxious to hear the story.

Tony hesitantly replaced his arm, mostly to encourage John to lay his head back down because he didn’t especially want to tell the story face to face.  John complied with the wordless request and settled in contentedly. 

“It was, um, six weeks ago?” Tony began.  “We were surveilling this really hot chick for a possible connection to the murder of one of our own agents.  He had been watching her when he got killed.”

“He was a friend of yours?”

“A buddy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Tony paused to swallow the lump in his throat.  “Anyway, I got the opportunity to get up close and personal with the woman and I took it.”

“So?”

“So I crossed the line,” Tony acknowledged guiltily.  “I, uh, I made out with her at a bar.”

“And she turned out to be the murderer?” John guessed. 

“Yep, she was very conniving, very clever, and hiding in plain sight.  She was also a man.”

John turned to look at Tony in confusion, sitting up and pulling back enough to see him clearly.  “You couldn’t tell?”

Tony laughed bitterly.  “I keep asking myself that same question.”

“And now Kate won’t leave you alone about it.  Hasn’t she ever made a mistake?” John asked, sounding angry and a little protective.

“I give Kate crap all the time,” Tony waved him off.  “She just finally found a way to turn the tables on me.  It’ll pass eventually if Gibbs doesn’t can both of us in the meantime.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Now we don’t ever have to mention it again.”

John nodded, then taking his pillow with him, moved closer to the middle of the bed.  “I’m going to try to sleep now.”

“Good.  You do that,” Tony approved as he turned the TV back on.  He crawled under the bedspread to offset the loss of body heat but it wasn’t the same. 

 

***

 

Despite being hopped up on Caf-Pow Abby unpacked the evidence carefully, checking the invoice against each item.  As she generally didn’t have any contact with victims other than an occasional glimpse of a bod on an autopsy table, she was a little unprepared for the emotional aspects of what she found.  Having conversed with the adorably bashful but eager to please John Doe she couldn’t help herself, she felt angry and upset as the contents of the box became clear.  She reached over and snapped off the blaring CD leaving the lab in eerie silence.

“Those bastards,” she muttered, pressing the heel of her gloved hand to her forehead.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Come on Abby, get it together,” she scolded herself then, ever the professional, got back to work.

Finally reaching the bottom of the plastic bin she read the label on the last bottle and set it aside with the rest of the various and sundry drugs.  She kept those separate from the less civilized items that thankfully appeared free of dried blood.  Wedged in the corner of the package she found a small button shaped mechanism that she might have overlooked if it hadn’t been in a clearly marked evidence bag.  Abby held it up and read Gibbs scrawled handwriting: ‘unknown device, found with interrogation instrumentation’.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, laying it flat on the table and spreading the plastic for a better look.  “I’ll check you out later,” she told the odd piece in a very Ducky manner.

With a renewed sense of responsibility she made a list of tasks and prioritized it as efficiently as she could.  The van would be arriving any minute so she set up the tests that could run unsupervised when she went down to check it out then got started collecting fingerprints from the drug bottles in the meantime.

 

***

 

Tony figured out in no time at all that TV without sound was for the most part mind-numbingly boring.  As soon as John fell asleep he gravitated back to the porn channel where audio was optional anyway.  At a quarter to five he considered jumping in the shower but knew Gibbs would skin him alive if he left the witness asleep and unguarded.  When he glanced over he found John lying on his side peacefully watching him.

“Another bad dream?”

“No.  I dreamed about… something else.”

 “See?  My idea worked,” Tony gloated proudly as he got to his feet.  “Listen, I really want to take a quick shower before everyone gets up.”

“Go ahead,” John yawned and started to do a full body stretch under the covers but promptly averted the maneuver as various aches and pains rudely resurfaced.  “Ow.”

With an empathetic cringe Tony peeled off his already unbuttoned outer shirt and dropped it to the bed.  “I can’t let you stay out here by yourself.  I’ll leave the door open and you can stand by the sink and talk to me so I know you’re okay.”

“That’s fine,” John accepted the plan easily, propping his head on his hand as he watched Tony take off his holster. “How do I know if I’m gay?” he asked unexpectedly, rubbing his sore ribs lightly with his free hand.

“You’re not gay,” Tony maintained, reaching for the hem of his tee-shirt and tugging it out of his pants.

“How do you know?” John asked watching intently as abdominal skin began to show.  “I could be.”

“I still think if you were you’d know,” Tony reiterated.  “Hey, this isn’t a floor show,” he grumbled just in case.

“Sorry,” John laughed and turned his head toward the TV instead where a tacky wedding ceremony implausibly turned into a free-for-all without the benefit of sound.  “I could be married I suppose.”

“I don’t think you’re married either,” Tony stated matter-of-factly making a face at the slight odor as he tugged his tee-shirt over his head and tossed it on top of the holster.  “If you are you don’t wear a wedding ring.  Look at your left hand, no tan line on your fourth finger.”

John examined his hand closely.  “But I do wear a watch apparently,” he observed as he traced the very slight color change of his wrist just above the abraded skin.  “When did you notice that?”

“Yesterday when I fingerprinted you,” Tony replied, stepping out of his pants and wandering towards the bathroom in his socks and underwear.  “Turn that off in case they get in here before I’m done.”

“Gibbs doesn’t watch porn?” John asked as he clicked off the TV and rolled out of bed to follow. 

“I don’t know about Gibbs but I’m almost certain Kate doesn’t.”  He went into the bathroom to turn on the water.  After fussing with the temperature for a minute he closed the curtain and switched on the shower.  When he turned around he found John standing in front of the sink checking him out.  “What?” he asked a little defensively.

“Nothing.”

Tony stared him down until John sighed and looked away as he perched on the edge of the counter. 

“You haven’t got anything to be ashamed of,” John berated him gently.  “Your body is a least as nice as those guys on TV, if not better.”

“Good God, maybe you are gay,” Tony retorted as he tore off one sock and then the other before stalling at the waistband of his underwear.  “Look, John, maybe you just forgot but guys don’t just stand around and watch while other guys get undressed.”

“You watched me get undressed last night,” John pointed out calmly.

“Yeah, well, that was different.  I was doing my job, checking for injuries and… stuff,” Tony stammered.

John looked him in the face, raising and eyebrow.  “I’d already been examined by a doctor, and believe me, she looked everywhere.  It scared me to death when Gibbs came into the cabin wearing rubber gloves.  It was the only flashback I’ve ever had that didn’t involve sand.”

Tony relaxed and chuckled, finally stepping out of his shorts.  “You’re a regular whiz kid at arguing, that’s for sure.  Maybe you’re a lawyer.”  He stuck a hand behind the curtain to test the water then stepped in.  “Keep talkin’,” he ordered.

“What am I supposed to say?” John asked from a lot closer than Tony expected. 

Parting the curtain from the wall, Tony found John inside the small bathroom leaning against the door frame next to the shower.  “I don’t know, what did you and Kate talk about last night?”

“We read bible verses,” John answered truthfully. 

With an amused harrumph, Tony closed the curtain and got under the water, grabbing the soap.  “You’ve watched porn with me and read the bible with Kate.  At least you’re getting a well-rounded education.  What did you do with Gibbs besides drink coffee?”

“Nothing really, Gibbs kind of intimidates me.”

“Gibbs intimidates everybody.  That’s part of his charm,” Tony assured as he soaped his chest, underarms, and belly.  “So why do you think you’re gay?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“I had a dream,” John answered readily.  “I dreamed I kissed a man.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re gay,” Tony mused.  “I mean that’s what we were talking about right before you went to sleep, not to mention watching all those skin flicks.  You’re just lucky your dream wasn’t the wet kind.”

“I dreamed I kissed you.”

“Oh.”  Tony finished washing his body in silence as he contemplated John’s words then grabbed the shampoo and lathered up.

“Do you hate me now?” John asked softly after a few more minutes of silence.

Tony pushed back the suds in his hair and yanked opened the curtain.  “No, I don’t hate you, it was just a dream,” he reassured.  “After all you’ve been through its only natural for you to project uh… feelings,” he cleared his throat uneasily, “onto the person who, you know, might have comforted you.”

“I keep wondering if that’s really what it would be like,” John admitted, dropped his gaze but not all the way to the floor.  His expression was curious but just innocent enough that Tony didn’t punch him. 

In a move that surprised them both, Tony grabbed John by the head and pulled him under the water for a brief, bruising, closed mouth kiss then released him with a little push.  “Now you don’t have to wonder.”

John gaped as bubbles of shampoo dribbled from his earlobes onto his now spotty wet tee-shirt.  Slowly he licked his lip to check for damage, apparently stunned. 

“Sorry,” Tony breathed heavily, flushing as he stared back at him.  “I don’t know why I did that.”

A small, startled titter escaped John’s mouth as he pulled off the damp tee-shirt and used it to wipe away the dripping foam.  The chortle grew into a full-blown belly laugh and he backed out of the bathroom to lean on the sink counter and try to regain control.

In spite of his mortification the shampoo presented a more immediate problem as it began to run into his eyes, stinging fiercely.  Tony snatched the curtain closed and rinsed his face and hair, but the laughter proved contagious.  Soon he found himself sniggering over his actions as well.  By the time he turned off the water his side ached.  When he pushed back the curtain John handed him a towel, grinning like a mad man.

Tony couldn’t help but smile back at him.  “That was weird.”

“Yeah,” John agreed.  “Not what I was expecting.”

“Me either,” Tony declared as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the tub.  “Come on, I’ll teach you how to shave.”

 

***

 

Kate woke to the sound of running water.  Bleary eyed, she managed to look at her watch, frowning to find it was exactly five o’clock.  “How does he do that?” she mumbled to herself, wondering if Gibbs had some kind of internal Marine clock or something.  At least she hadn’t been awakened by Tony’s annoying watch alarm this time.  When the shower came on she knew she had a couple minutes of privacy so she got up and quickly dressed. 

After pulling her hair back into a ponytail she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth before applying a light coat of mascara and some lipstick.  She knew she didn’t look her best but she was _not_ going to be caught fussing with makeup when Gibbs came out of bathroom.  Packing quickly, she left her bag on the bed then decided to relieve Tony of babysitting duty so he could get ready.

When she let herself though the inside door she was surprised to find an empty bed and two well defined bare backs at the sink, one of which sported some spectacular bruising.  Tony in a towel and John in only his sweat pants stood side by side facing the big mirror, their lower faces covered in shaving cream.  They turned as one to look at her, razors in hand.

“Why are you wearing a towel?” Kate asked on impulse.

“I suppose ‘because I was wet’ would be too obvious?” Tony asked acerbically. “Didn’t you ever learn to knock?”

“Whoops, sorry,” Kate apologized, nevertheless making her way to sit on the foot of the bed for a ringside seat.  “I didn’t think you would have John up yet.  And it’s not like I haven’t already seen everything you’ve got.”

“Kate’s seen you naked?” John questioned with a smart-alecky grin.

“I was wearing a chair.  Part of the time,” Tony amended.  “You can stay but no comments from the peanut gallery, this is serious business,” he warned Kate as he turned back to the sink and turned on the hot water.  “Okay, remember what I told you; go with the grain.  Long, even strokes.”

“Uh-oh, maybe I should go,” Kate teased, winking at John who glanced up at her in the mirror but did not appear particularly amused by the comment.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Caitlin,” Tony retorted indignantly.  “Go ahead,” he urged John and they both focused their attention back on their own images.

“Like this?” John asked, taking his first tentative swathe through the now two days growth of stubble. 

“Take your time,” Tony encouraged as he began to shave his own face, frequently swishing the razor under the running water.  “You might want to press a little harder.”

“Ow.”

“Not that hard.  It’s okay, it happens,” Tony advised, ducking into the bathroom and coming out with a roll of toilet paper.  He tore off a tiny corner and reached over to stick it to the small drop of blood on John’s jaw.  “Try this.”  Tony stuck his tongue against the inside of his mouth making a lump on the outside.  “See?”

John copied the action and nodded his head, picking up where he left off. 

“Be careful around the chin, it’s tricky.”

Already bored with the shaving lesson, Kate rounded the bed and turned on the TV to find a weather report.  After two seconds she shut it off.  “I’m going to check around outside,” she announced and disappeared out the front door.

“I told you Kate doesn’t watch porn,” Tony commented offhandedly as he stretched his neck to get to the underside of his jaw.  John caught on quickly but continued to watch out of the corner of his eye, picking up new shaving faces as they went along.

 

***

 

When Gibbs entered the room, the occupants were fully dressed but Tony’s hands were busily in John’s hair.  “Where’s Kate?” he asked without a second glance at the unusual activity.

“She went to recon the parking lot,” Tony replied as he studied his masterpiece and tugged a few more strands into place.  “That woman has an incredible work ethic.”

Certain he smelled coffee John darted a suspicious glance towards the door then at Gibbs until Tony grabbed his chin and turned his head side to side for one final inspection.

“You’ll do,” Tony announced, slapping him playfully on his freshly shaven cheeks.

Gibbs ignored them and sat on the bed to turn on the TV.  “I told her those pants would be too tight,” he commented and settled back on one elbow as he watched the screen impassively.

“They are, aren’t they?” John asked as he looked down at himself and then over his shoulder to catch the reflection of his rear end in the mirror.

“They’re fine,” Tony told him, squirting another dab of mousse into his hand and rubbing it into his own hair, smoothing it straight back.  He looked over at John’s near perfect do then re-sculpted his slightly longer locks into spikes as well.  It didn’t quite work out the way he wanted so he ended up combing it back again.  “I need a haircut.”

“I thought you wanted to get away from this look,” John mocked impishly as he picked at his bangs.

Tony slapped his hand away.  “Shut up and don’t mess with your hair, it looks good.  Do you want some cologne?”

John shrugged indecisively but watched with rapt attention as Tony picked up a bottle, sprayed the air and walked through it.  He sniffed experimentally but Tony pulled him through the lingering mist without waiting for his decision.  John wrinkled his nose as he waved a hand in front of his face, blinking profusely before sneezing three times.

Gibbs finally rolled his eyes at their antics.  “If you two are through primping I’d like to get out of here sometime today,” he declared, turning off the TV and getting to his feet.  “That better not show up on your government credit card,” he threatened as he pointed to the TV on his way back to his own room. 

“Ignore him,” Tony replied as he began packing his things.  “He’s particularly abrasive in his pre-caffeinated stage.”

A minute later Gibbs appeared back in the doorway holding two cups of coffee.  He wordlessly handed one to John who was struggling with the top of his pain medicine.

“Where’s mine?” Tony asked.

“It’s only a two-cupper, and your supplies are already depleted,” Gibbs smirked nodding towards the used pot next to the sink.  “Addicts first.” 

“Thanks,” John smiled, taking a deep drink, using it to wash down a Motrin and then a Sudafed.  “You want a drink?” he offered, holding the cup out to Tony.

“Not without sugar,” Tony made a disgusted face as he packed his toiletries into a small travel pouch.  “See if your stuff will fit in my pack.”

John gathered his collection of Wal-Mart bags and began to place his meager belongings on top of Tony’s things.  At the tap on the door Gibbs and DiNozzo both went for their guns.  Gibbs got there first but put his weapon away after checking the peep-hole.  Tony followed suit leaving his boss to open the door as he returned to the bed to help John close the overstuffed backpack.  

“What’s the situation?” Gibbs queried as Kate entered the room.

“The clerk at the front desk is stoned and there’s a group of working girls chatting in the lobby but the parking lot is devoid of life.  Wow, look at you,” she grinned, checking out John in his new clothes and slightly worn leather shoes.  “You clean up nice and you smell good, too.  Those jeans are perfect.”

“Too tight,” Gibbs argued grouchily.  “I don’t know how he can breathe.”

John blushed under the scrutiny, practically backing into Tony who looked up and wordlessly plucked the piece of tissue from his jaw, obviously proud of his handiwork.   

“Let’s get a report before we hit the road,” Gibbs decided.  “We’ll stop for breakfast somewhere after we get on the interstate.”

Tony went to the computer and quickly had Abby on the line as they all gathered around the screen.

“Good morning,” Abby greeted sleepily, looking for one person in particular after worrying about him half the night.  “Hi John, hey Tony, good job!” she approved all in one breath with an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“Thanks, Abs.” Tony smacked John’s hand again as he reached to fuss with his hair.

“Who would have thought Tony could be a make-over guy,” Kate agreed.  “For once I’m glad he’s a devout metrosexual.”

“A what?” Gibbs asked, echoed by John half a beat later.

“What?”

“Metrosexual, that’s a straight guy that grooms like a gay guy,” Abby explained.  “It’s a Queer Eye kind of thing.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with looking good,” Tony defended, narrowing his eyes at Kate.  “Abby, please,” Gibbs requested as he crushed his now empty cup.  “Have you got anything for us?”

“Tons,” Abby exclaimed excitedly.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Busy girl,” Tony crooned, flashing a grin.

“Start with the van,” Gibbs directed succinctly.

“Okay… I lifted prints from all four of the people we know were at the camp ground plus a few unknowns, but those could be from almost anybody and it’ll probably be days before I get them all processed.  I’ve got some other stuff I should work on first,” Abby reported.  “By the way, only the guy with the starburst fingerprints touched the drug bottles and the seal had only been broken on three of them; the Demerol, the Versed, and the Sodium Amatol.”

“That certainly points to a professional,” Gibbs noted.

“What, uh, what are those drugs for?” John asked inquisitively, biting his lip.

“Used together they can put a person into a more accessible state of mind, sort of a ‘truth serum’,” Tony explained making quote marks in the air.  “It’s not fun but it sure beats torture.”

“Speaking of which,” Abby replied with a strange huskiness in her voice, “The awls, hooks, drills and other pretty accessories are all clean.  A few prints from ‘Inquisition Guy’, but no blood.”

Gibbs nodded. “Yeah, they didn’t get the opportunity to progress that far.”

“Thank God,” Kate sighed, patting John on the shoulder.

“Except for this thing,” Abby held up the slender electrical device.  “It has traces of blood on it that I’ve type matched with the sample from John… which I haven’t finished the drug screen on yet so don’t even ask.”

“That thing is most likely how they ruptured his eardrum,” Tony provided, watching as John reacted with a shudder that he tried to hide.

“I’d say that’s a good bet.  Oh, and I haven’t figured out what this doohickey is yet either.”  She held up the metallic button, “But I have an idea where they used it.  Can somebody send me a close up of the bruise on John’s temple?”

“Can it wait?” Gibbs asked, noting that oh five thirty was rapidly approaching as he glanced at his watch.

“Gibbs,” Abby stated with grim determination, “This technology is like nothing I have ever seen before.”

“Never?” Tony asked dubiously.

“Never,” Abby reiterated in a very serious tone.  “I’ve never even heard speculation of anything like this.  I can’t open it… I don’t even know what it’s made of.  This could be _very_ important.  It’s most definitely some type of hush-hush secret agent toy.”

Convinced by the spy argument, Gibbs gave in.  “Make it quick.”

“Just take a still on the webcam,” Abby instructed.  “And somebody measure it for me, please.”

Kate examined John’s temple as Tony grabbed the camera and held it close to John’s injury.  “How’s that?”

“Good enough for government work,” Abby approved, looking at her monitor closely.  “Take it.”

Tony snapped a screen grab then tapped on the keyboard for a few seconds, obscuring the image of Abby in her lab.

“The bruise itself is perfectly round and there’s a tiny scab right in the center.  The whole thing is about six centimeters in diameter,” Kate told Abby.  “What?  I happen to be very good at estimating size and distance,” she claimed when Tony shot her a surprised look.  “Just because women are told all our lives that this is six inches,” she said as she held up her thumb and forefinger a scant three inches apart, “Doesn’t mean we believe it.”

Still working on the keyboard DiNozzo shook his head and stifled a laugh.

“Abby we’ve gotta go,” Gibbs snorted, glaring at Kate. 

“One more thing, no wait, two more things…” Abby insisted, popping back up on the screen as soon as Tony sent the e-mail.  “Crispy critter number three had the vestiges of not one, but two watches on what remained of his person.  One was melted into his left wrist where we would expect to find a watch but the other was sort of fussed into the right side of the pelvic girdle.”

“He took the victim’s watch when they handcuffed him to the chair and put it in his front pants pocket,” Gibbs deduced, pointing at the screen emphatically.

“That’s what I’m thinking.  And even better, the pelvic watch had a partial inscription on it,” Abby grinned broadly.  “To Dr. Jacks.”

“That’s it?”

“It’s a miracle I got that much, the rest is too melted to read.”

“Jacks?  Does that ring any bells?” Tony turned to John to ask.

John crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive pose and shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed.  Kate sat with him, exchanging a puzzled glance with Tony.

“What’s the other thing, Abs?” Gibbs prodded.

Abby lifted a brown carryall up to the lab table.  “Found this in a hidden partition in the floor of the van.”  She unzipped the outer pocket and pulled out a boarding pass.  “It’s for a Daniel Jack _son_ coming out of Colorado Springs, Colorado.  There’s not anything else with a name on it in the bag, I’m guessing his wallet was in somebody’s pocket when they got fried, but this was in the secret compartment, too.”  The screen filled with a cardboard sign with ‘Doctor Jackson’ printed neatly in large black letters on it.  “It’s not a positive ID by any means because we don’t even know for sure if this or the watch actually belong to John.  It’s all pretty circumstantial.”

“But if this Doctor Jackson was expecting to be picked up at the airport by a Marine he didn’t know then we definitely have a military connection.  Maybe he’s a civilian consultant,” Gibbs mused.

“Assuming the interrogator wasn’t Doctor Jackson.  Maybe he liked the victim’s watch better and traded,” Kate suggested, playing devil’s advocate.  “Or maybe his watch was broken.”

“Check the underwear,” Tony urged with a sudden flash of inspiration.

“Huh?”

“If the bag belongs to John you should find some white, size 32 BVDs,” he predicted.

After several seconds of digging around in the carrier Abby fished out a pair of white briefs.  “Excellent,” she praised. 

“We gotta go,” Gibbs replied gruffly after once again checking his watch.  “If you get anything else call me.”  He disconnected without waiting for Abby to respond, half expecting his cell to start ringing.

“Nice job on the underwear,” Kate said to Tony.

“Thanks,” Tony grinned as he powered down the laptop and put it back into its case.

“I’ll get our bags,” Gibbs called as he went to the other room. 

“So I guess we should call you Daniel now,” Kate suggested to a very quiet and still John.

“Let’s not rush it,” Tony recommended, sharing another meaningful look with her over John’s bent head.  “I’m already used to John anyway.”

“Me, too,” John agreed, looking up at Tony gratefully.

“Okay by me,” Kate backed down without an argument, amazed how easily Tony could read people sometimes.

John got up and started to shoulder the pack.  “Wait a minute,” Tony said as he opened a side pocket on it.  “Put these on.”  He held out a pair of sunglasses which John took and slid on, hiding the bruise to some extent.  Tony tossed him his windbreaker and he put that on. 

“Looks like we’ve got a new member of the team,” Kate approved.

Gibbs handed Kate her bag when he came back in, eyeing John and nodding at the implied ruse.  “Let’s go.”

Tony put on his NCIS baseball cap and grabbed the computer.  “I’ll meet you guys outside.  I’m gonna go get us checked out.”

“Give us that stuff so we can pack the car,” Gibbs instructed.  “Take the witness with you and we’ll pick you up in front of the lobby.  Don’t fart around, we need to get the hell out of here.”

Kate took the computer and Gibbs hefted the pack as they headed for the back stairs which were closer to where the car was parked.  Tony and John went to the elevator but it was on its way down so Tony steered them down the inside stairwell instead.  A minute later the elevator dinged and a news crew stepped out.  “This way,” the young man in charge whispered, “Room two thirty-seven.  We’ll set up in the hall and wait until they come out.”

 

***

 

DiNozzo pulled out his wallet as he approached the front desk.  “About that adult channel…” he began, fishing out his personal credit card.

John wandered toward the plate glass window to look outside.  The sun hadn’t yet risen but there was a pre-dawn gloom silhouetting the mountains on the horizon. The bleak contrast was beautiful in a dismal sort of way and seemed to fit his mood, not that he could really see it all that well behind Tony’s sunshades.

“Well hello, gorgeous,” a woman’s voice purred as a pair of hands twined up and around his upper arm.  “Wanna party?”

“Hi,” John grinned shyly down at the red-haired vixen firmly attaching herself to him, jumping slightly when he was accosted from the other side as well.

“You look like you need a little brown sugah, Sugah,” the much taller black woman drawled huskily, sliding a hand under the windbreaker to wander over his side and back.

John flinched at the gentle pressure on his tender abdomen but kept smiling, letting his gaze wander nervously down to the scantily clad breasts pressing up against him.

“What?  Are you ticklish, honey?” 

“I don’t think so,” John answered uncertainly, not quite sure what to do with his hands.

Standing slightly taller than John in her stiletto heels, the dark beauty pulled his sunglasses down his nose with a long, red fingertip.  “I could drown in these eyes,” she whispered in his ear, her hot breath making him shiver.  “What do you say?  We could have a real good time.”

“I saw him first,” the short redhead insisted, squeezing closer as well.

“Buzz off, Ruthie, he likes me better.”

“I like both of you,” John announced, finally daring to put an arm around each of them.

“That’s doable,” the Amazon agreed after an eager nod from Ruthie.  “Have you got a room?”

“Not anymore,” John told her, turning to look for Tony to get some guidance.  “We were just leaving.”

“Don’t you want to stay and play?”

Seeing John’s plight, Tony quickly finished up with the extremely mellow desk clerk.  “Break it up, girls,” he advised good-naturedly, flashing his badge as he walked over.

“Pig,” Ruthie grumbled as she released John and stalked away.

“Now, now, be nice,” Tony chided after her affably.  “You too, RuPaul, let him go.”

She smiled wryly, not quite ready to give up. “We could still work out a threesome.  I’d do you boys for free, sort of a public servant public service.”

Tony laughed at her play on words as he physically unwound her arm from John’s torso. “Not in this lifetime, baby, now run along before I run you in.”

“Tony,” John objected under his breath, reluctantly letting her go.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” the woman complained as she sauntered away, glancing brazenly over her shoulder for one last leer.  “What a fine white bread sandwich that could have been.”

“Okay, _John_ ,” Tony emphasized ironically, pushing the glasses back up John’s nose.  “I can see we need to have a little talk about the birds and the bees.”

“You don’t understand, they wanted to have sex,” John explained in exasperation, completely forgetting about Gibbs for the moment.

Tony scratched his ear thoughtfully, deciding how best to explain prostitution to someone with no pop-culture references and without the usual euphemisms.  “Yeah, I got that, uh… those were hookers, okay?  Men pay them to have sex.”

“They never pay on TV.”

“That’s different, that’s pure male fantasy.  Besides, one of your little girlfriends wasn’t even female.”

“Really?” John’s eyes went wide and he turned to stare after the ‘women’ as they disappeared out onto the street.  “Which one?”

“You figure it out,” Tony sighed, herding him towards the door as the rental car pulled up under the covered drive.

“The tall one?” John guessed as he made a cupping motion in the air with both hands.  “But she had big…” 

“And a nice, prominent Adam’s apple, too,” Tony interrupted him, pushing his hands down.  “I’ve learned to look for these things.” 

“Will we be able to get some hookers later?” John asked hopefully as they exited the building.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Tony lamented, stopping John and turning him around so they were face to face.  “Listen to me very carefully; the stuff we saw on TV is just like Penthouse Letters; it never really happens that way.”

“Never?” John asked, obviously disappointed. 

Tony winced.  “Okay, maybe occasionally, but usually sex is a little harder to come by and costs a lot more than money.  Besides, prostitution is illegal.”  Gibbs honked the horn impatiently and Tony tugged John over to the car.  “We’ll talk about it later.  Do me a favor and don’t mention the sex stuff in front of Kate.”

“I’m confused,” John said as Tony opened the back door and placed his hand on his head, ever cautious of the hair, and then urged him to slide over.

“Aren’t we all,” Tony replied cryptically, getting in behind him and shutting the door.

“What’s a Penthouse Letter?” John asked as he remembered to buckle his seat belt, getting it right this time.

Tony groaned.  “That falls under the category we weren’t going to talk about in the car,” he explained.

“Oh.  Sorry.  I suppose I shouldn’t ask about a white bread sandwich then either?”

Gibbs finally laughed out loud as he put the car in gear.

“What’s going on?” Kate asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Tony sighed, “John just nearly started a riot with the ladies in the lobby.”

As they sped off a TV crew came scrambling out of the building.  “Was that them?” the camera man asked, heaving for breath.

“Shit,” the reporter cursed, throwing down his mic.  “That tip cost me five hundred bucks.  I knew we should have gotten here at four.”

A block away a gray panel truck turned onto the street and slowly headed towards the interstate.

 

***

 

After a politically correct explanation of porn, Penthouse Letters, and the in context meaning of ‘sandwich’ to John, Kate berated Tony for exposing him to ‘illicit’ material when he was in such a defenseless and impressionable state.

By the time they reached the interstate John had been thoroughly briefed on acceptable public behavior, especially in reference to the opposite sex.  Even as he realized his world view had been somewhat skewed prior to the lecture, he couldn’t help but be a little disheartened by reality.  Occupying his mind with lurid thoughts had turned out to be a very useful tool in keeping away the ominous visions and he felt somewhat bereft at having his flights of fancy unceremoniously striped away from him. 

“And if you whack off in the shower you’ll go blind,” Tony muttered under his breath when Kate finally finished her diatribe.

“What was that, Tony?” Kate enquired irritably.

“Nothing, dear,” Tony answered in a phony, cheerful voice, avoiding John’s wounded puppy look by staring out the window as they drove on in silence.

“We’ll eat there,” Gibbs decided a few miles down the road as he slowed the car and took the exit specified by a billboard that advertised a roadside diner.  The place was just off the highway, small but clean in appearance, and surrounded by eighteen wheelers.  After parking as close to the front door as possible, they all piled out forming a loose, protective circle around the witness. 

“Try to act normal,” Gibbs advised John as they crossed the parking lot.

“I don’t know what normal is,” John bemoaned with a sigh, a dejected slump to his shoulders. 

His disposition improved instantly when they entered the busy restaurant and he glanced around trying to take in everything at once.  The clientele were mostly truckers but a few businessmen and some workers from a nearby factory just coming off the graveyard shift were also scattered among the early morning crowd. 

Tony tugged John by the sleeve to get him to moving again and they seated themselves in a booth away from the front windows without waiting for the hostess.  John and Kate took the inside seats and Tony and Gibbs the outer respectively.

“Mornin’,” the waitress greeted warmly, laying down the menus almost before they had settled on the benches.  “Can I get cha a cup o’ Joe?”

“Yes, please,” Gibbs accepted, turning the heavy cup in front of him right side up in the saucer. 

John quickly copied the action, smiling at the waitress as she poured a round for everyone.  “Thank you,” he replied then savored the much better coffee as he perused the menu, reading it word for word.

“I’m Patty.  I’ll give ya a minute to decide and then I’ll be back to take your orders.”

“What looks good?” Kate asked, trying to engage John in conversation as the waitress went to bus the next table.

“Everything,” John stated as he read, comparing the menu items to the pictures as he tried to figure out what was what.  “What are you going to have?” he asked turning to Tony. 

“This one.” Tony pointed to the top picture before closing the menu and leaning over John to snag a couple packets of sugar for his coffee.  They appeared comfortable in each other’s space even though Tony was still a little put out by the lecture en route John had inadvertently triggered.

Kate watched the interaction as she added a packet of artificial sweetener to her own cup, determined to make some kind of connect with John.  She planned on working up a modified profile on the way home and hoped he would open up to her.  “Would you like to try some sugar in your coffee?” she queried, reaching across the table to remove his sunglasses so she could see his eyes.

“Why?” John blinked at her, taking a perfectly contented sip.

Gibbs collected all the menus except John’s.  “Good boy,” he approved smugly. 

“What do you want to eat, John?” Tony questioned.  “You need to decide before the waitress gets back.”

“I haven’t finished looking yet,” John complained with a slight frown of concentration, burying his nose back in the menu.

“Just get the Big Breakfast; it has a little bit of everything.  I’ll order it for you if you want,” Tony offered as he leaned closer to show him the top picture again.

“Okay,” John gave in, reluctantly handing over his prized reading material.

“What’ll it be?” Patty inquired a minute later, looking to Kate first.

“I’ll have a bran muffin and a small orange juice.”

“Yes ma’am.  Sir?” she asked turning to John next.

“We’ll have two Big Breakfasts, scrambled, sausage instead of bacon,” Tony rattled off quickly for both of them, indicating himself and John with his thumb.

“Would you like white bread or wheat for your toast?”

“White… no, wheat,” Tony amended at John’s schoolboy snigger.  He shot him a reproving look but ended up elbowing him and grinning instead.

“Make that three,” Gibbs ordered, giving them a ‘don’t make me separate you’ look, “But I’ll have the bacon.”

“All righty then, it’ll be out in a few,” Patty assured cheerfully, tearing off the page then gathering the menus and promptly disappearing into the kitchen to turn in the order.

Tony finally laughed.  “You are so immature,” he scolded John teasingly.

“Must be the company he keeps,” Kate replied batting her eyelashes at Tony as he mock glared back at her. 

John’s smile faded as he picked up the shades and put them back on.  Under the table he fidgeted with the hem of the windbreaker until Tony reached over and stilled his hand, his fingers lingering for a moment before pulling away.  The action seemed to calm him and soon John picked up his cup and sipped his coffee.  Suddenly he winced and cupped his ear. 

“What is that sound?” he asked in a pained voice, the color draining from his face.

“What?” Gibbs asked, looking around. 

“It’s a high-pitched whine,” John tried to explain. 

“Like a ringing in your ears?”

“I guess, but just this one,” John agreed pointing to his injured ear.

“It could be from the eardrum,” Gibbs suggested.  “Did you get water in it?”

 “I don’t think so.”

“Do you need to see a doctor?” Tony asked as he draped an arm across the back of the bench without actually touching John, outwardly appearing casual.

“No,” John replied automatically, making an effort to look unconcerned as he brought his hand down.  “It’s better now.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes not so secretly watching John as the color slowly came back to his face.

 

***

 

“They’re inside,” the driver confirmed as he got back in the truck and slammed the door. 

“I told you so,” the smaller man in front of the elaborate computer setup sneered. 

The other occupant of the panel truck sighed.  “Okay, the system works.  Let’s back off a little before they spot us.”

The driver started the engine and pulled onto the highway back the way they had come.

 

***

 

“Stop it,” Tony said, grabbing John’s hand and pulling it under the table to keep him from rubbing his ear.  “I thought you said it didn’t bother you anymore.”

“It doesn’t really hurt, but now I’m aware of it,” John explained, relaxing his hand and leaving it on the top of Tony’s thigh where it landed. 

Tony coughed once as he looked around cautiously then gave John’s hand a little squeeze and gently but firmly deposited it on the seat between them.  Although she couldn’t see what actually happened, Kate narrowed her eyes at Tony.  He returned the stare evenly as he brought his hand above the table and rested his chin on it.

“You got a problem, Kate?”

“No.  But I’m beginning to think you do.”

Gibbs motioned for them to be quiet as the waitress approached balancing a large tray over her head on one hand.  “Here we go,” she called out, lowering the tray and expertly placing the correct meals in front of each of them before handing Kate her juice.  Finally, she grabbed the coffee pot off the center and dropped the tray down to her side in a maneuver made easy by years of practice.

“That’s amazing,” John uttered in fascination at the balancing act.

Patty beamed at him as she topped everyone’s coffee off.  “Can I get you anything else?”

Glancing down the table for the ketchup, Gibbs shook his head.  “I’m good.”  He poked Kate in the arm and she passed it to him.

“I’ll check on you in a bit then. Enjoy.”  Patty placed the tab upside down on the table between Gibbs and Tony then took her coffee pot to refill her other patrons.

John watched with interest as Gibbs covered his hash browns and eggs in ketchup then dug in.  He reached for the bottle but noticed Tony only used the salt and grabbed that instead. 

“Go easy on that stuff,” Kate warned as she picked her muffin apart and popped a piece of it into her mouth.  “It’s bad for your blood pressure.”

“Beside the word ‘nag’ in the dictionary there’s a picture of Kate,” Tony advised around a mouthful of buttered wheat toast.  “In fact, they kicked her out of the Food Police because she wouldn’t let anybody eat anything but soy and tofu.  A whole city starved to death.  It’s true; I have the newspaper clipping…”

“Ha ha, Tony,” Kate huffed.

John tried not to grin but Gibbs had no such compunction as he obviously agreed this time.  “Kate, let the man eat in peace,” he ordered.

“I was just trying to help,” Kate groused, feeling more outnumbered than usual.

 

***

 

It had already been a long night but the day dawning promised more worry for SG-1.  The flight from Colorado in the back of a C-130 had been somewhat expedient but rougher than expected and they’d arrived after midnight and a bit airsick.  Even Teal’c appeared worse for wear but whether it was nausea or concern for his friend no one really knew, and Teal’c being Teal’c wasn’t talking.  O’Neill suspected at times like these the big Jaffa still secretly longed for his missing symbiote, even though Jack himself was elated that Junior was gone.

Thankfully Major Davis had personally met them at Andrews, whisking them back to a secure suite where a command center had been set up with all the comforts of home plus a top of the line computer system.  On the valid claim of national security, a team of detectives had rapidly been assigned to the case, bypassing the usual missing persons procedures.  A small force of high-security Air Force personnel rounded out the team, although _officially_ , it was a ‘police matter’ until proven otherwise.

The hours since their arrival had been filled with briefings and interviews but Jack soon realized the need-to-know nature of the case would unavoidably hamper the detectives’ efforts.  Both sides quickly became frustrated with the number of questions that simply couldn’t be answered.  It was proving to be an incredible waste of time, time that Daniel might not have.  He wished the cops luck but he was glad to see their backs even as they left with nothing more than a few details and their carefully crafted cover story to work from. 

Teal’c stood like a statue in the window as he watched the sun rise over the capital city, waiting for the word to go, ready to explode into action in an instant.  Having finished a half dozen early morning phone calls to various Naval brass Sam hovered silently just over Jack’s shoulder as he watched the grainy black and white airport security tape for the fourth time.  She cringed at the sight of Daniel looking very GQ in his best suit as he approached the uniformed man who smiled innocuously as he held up a sign that clearly read ‘Doctor Jackson’. 

“It was a trap,” Sam blurted out as Jack stopped the tape, a frozen tableau of the trusting archeologist shaking the young Marine’s hand remaining on the screen.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed with an irate sigh.  “The whole damn thing was a setup.  I can’t say I was surprised to find out Kinsey was the son of a bitch who insisted they needed Daniel to come in person for this cockamamie oversight shit.  I still think me and T should go pay him a little visit.”

“I concur, O’Neill,” Teal’c stated in a low rumble, turning away from the view.

“With all due respect, sir, we can’t prove anything,” Major Davis objected.  “Senator Kinsey just planted the seed.  Most of his cohorts in this were newly introduced to the Stargate Program.  They were enamored at the idea of meeting a real member of SG-1, especially the man who opened the gate.  Kinsey might have guided their exuberance, but he did nothing wrong per se…”

“So he covered his ass, as always,” Jack interrupted heatedly.  “In the meantime, the cops are running around chasing their tails while the NID does God knows what to Daniel!”

Several members of the support team looked up from their computer monitors at the raised voice.

“We don’t know it’s the NID,” Sam offered quietly with a placating gesture.

Jack rolled his eyes.  “Oh, it is,” he assured her.

“I think the Colonel might be right,” Davis admitted, clearing his throat.  “There’s been a lot of interest in Doctor Jackson’s time as an ascending being from the people in the know at the Pentagon.  I mean he’s one of us again now but he was an _alien_ for almost a year.  No offense,” he added to Teal’c as he moved closer. 

Teal’c bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement but his face remained impassive.

“Conceivably, this interest extends to the legitimate operations of the NID, although officially they’ve denied any responsibility for Daniel’s disappearance,” Davis finished.

“What about the bastardized operations,” Jack retorted with a sarcastic snort.  “Those are the ones we should be worried about, the ones that never see the light of day.”

“But Daniel doesn’t remember anything about the time he was ascended,” Sam insisted with an undertone of anger in her voice.  “They made sure of that,” she added as she pointed towards the ceiling.

“Which is why no one ever insisted on taking Doctor Jackson to area 52 for debriefing,” Davis explained, holding his hands up defensively at the three hostile glances thrown his way. 

“Officially,” Jack replied coldly.

“Why now?” Sam asked in frustration.  “He’s been home for six months, why wait so long before grabbing him if it is an unsanctioned NID operation?”

“We grew complacent with time,” Teal’c surmised.  “They merely waited for an opportune moment.”

“Yeah, we let our guard down,” Jack agreed unhappily.  “There’s no way they would have been able to take him when we first got him back.”

Major Davis picked up the thread again tensely.  “I did a little snooping last night.  I don’t know if they were directly in relation to Doctor Jackson or not but recently there were a lot of studies begun at area 52 on memory-enhancing nutrients; specifically, lecithin and phosphatedylcholine…”

“So?” Jack interrupted. 

“They were all abruptly shelved about a month ago.”

“You think they discovered a drug that will make Daniel remember,” Jack guessed.

“Or they found something else that made the drugs unnecessary,” Sam pointed out as the scientist in her kicked in.  “There’s an awful lot of alien technology stored at area 52 just waiting to be studied and SG teams bring more through the gate every day.”

“Would not any method of memory restoration prove ineffective in Daniel Jackson’s situation?” Teal’c inquired.  “His memories were in fact removed.”

“We don’t actually know if they were removed or just blocked, Teal’c,” Sam explained.  “It’s now widely accepted that all of our memories are permanently stored in our brains, even the things we’ve forgotten.  They just become inaccessible due to faulty neurons or crossed wires if you will.  The fact that Daniel remembered Braytac and Ry’ac were in trouble shows that at least some of those memories are still there.”

“Perfect.  The NID thinks Daniel has all the knowledge of the ancients stored in his already overloaded brain, ripe for the pickin’.”

“Major Carter?” one of the technical advisors called out.

“What’s up, Captain?” Jack asked as he got up and followed Sam to the bank of computers.

“Maybe nothing, sir,” the nervous woman responded.  “I was doing background checks on people who had worked in Cheyenne Mountain and had recently separated from the service…”

“Yadda,” Jack prodded impatiently with a wave of his hand.

“I was kicked out when the system was shut down.”

“Why was it shut down?” Sam asked, reading the incoming IM over her shoulder.

“SOP, someone hacked in.  I’m on with the administrator now; the person was trolling for information on Doctor Jackson.”

“Do they know where?”  Major Davis asked excitedly.

“Yes sir, here in DC, NCIS headquarters at the Naval Ship Yard.”

“Good job, Captain,” Sam praised, smiling for the first time in hours.

“Can the administrator get us an address?”

“She did better than that, sir,” Sam enthused, rapidly writing on a scrap of paper then holding it up.  “She identified the hacker’s computer.”

 

“Let’s go,” Jack urged, grabbing his jacket on the way to the door. 

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Davis asked urgently.

“NCIS?  They are the police,” Jack called back over his shoulder as his team disappeared out the door.

 

***

 

“Busted!” Abby exclaimed, hitting the power button to quickly shut down her computer as she scrambled to her feet.  “I knew I should have waited for McGee,” she fretted, wringing her hands as she stared at the now thankfully dark monitor.  She jumped a nearly a foot at an unexpectedly touch on the shoulder.

“Ducky!” Abby wailed.  “Don’t do that!”

“Good heavens, child, calm down,” Ducky instructed firmly, seating her back at her desk.  “Take a deep breath and then tell me what the devil is going on.”

“Okay, um, on a hunch I Googled ‘Doctor Daniel Jackson AND Colorado Springs Colorado’ since we had a NORAD connection.  Actually, I had some down time and I Googled ‘Doctor Daniel Jackson AND’ a whole lot of other things, but I got a fairly reasonable hit on Colorado Springs.”

“What did you find?”

Abby continued to fidget but calmed down as she got into the story.  “Well, this particular Daniel Jackson, and believe me there were a LOT of Daniel Jacksons, was a multiple PHD linguist and archeologist.”

“A linguist, you say!” Ducky approved.  “That may very well be our John Doe.”

“Except the info was in an obituary from over six years ago, so I’m thinking not.”

“I see.”

“But get this; he worked for the Air Force on… guess what?”

“Ah ha, deep space radar telemetry,” Ducky assumed.

“Give the man a cigar!”

“Have you informed Jethro yet?”

“Well no, since that Daniel Jackson is dead and all, but the coincidence was a little too much to just drop either so I had another idea.  Unfortunately, it didn’t go so well,” Abby cringed as she looked back at her traitorous computer.  “I hacked into the personnel files at Cheyenne Mountain.”

“Oh my,” Ducky sighed.  “I hate to ask, but haven’t you done things like that before?”

“Yeah, but this time I got caught.  I think it was a trap and I walked right into it.  Top Secret doesn’t even begin to describe that place,” Abby bemoaned.  “I thought it seemed way too easy to get in.  Ducky, I’m going to jail!”

“Nonsense.  Gibbs won’t let them lock you up without an appeal to Director Morrow,” Ducky soothed, patting her on the back.  “You were working on an investigation, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure they won’t approve of my methods.”

“Can they trace you?”

“Well, if it was me, I could,” Abby shrugged.  “But considering they had it set up precisely to nab any unauthorized viewers I expect a Special Forces team to kick down my door any minute.”

Ducky laughed.  “I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

“I hope not,” Abby replied, worriedly chewing on her lip.

 

***

 

“What?” Gibbs asked in resignation at the concerned look on Kate’s face as she came out of the restroom and spotted Tony with John in the tiny, eclectic gift shop of the diner.

“Nothing,” Kate protested, sensitive to the perceived criticism.

“Kate,” Gibbs released a longsuffering sigh.  “If you’ve got something to say just say it.”

“Fine.  Don’t you think they’re getting a little too close?” Kate ventured as she watched Tony moving slowly along the counter explaining the various junk to his eager shadow. 

“Maybe you’d better explain that,” Gibbs frowned. 

“I just don’t know if it’s healthy for John to be so dependent on Tony, that’s all.  He looks to him for everything, copies everything he does.  Frankly, I’m surprised Tony is taking it as well as he is.”

Gibbs grinned and shook his head.  “That really surprises you?  I need to talk to Morrow, we pay you too much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means put those highly touted skills of yours to work here.”

“I haven’t had the chance…”

“Not the witness, DiNozzo,” Gibbs clarified.  “You know him well enough.  What does Tony crave more than anything else?  And think about it before you answer.”

“Gibbs!”

“See, you just jumped to the wrong conclusion.  The correct answer is: attention.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Kate nodded her head grudgingly.  “Sometimes I think he must have really been ignored as a child.  I’d love to have a nice long chat with his father.  That’s a very astute observation, Gibbs.”

“I have my moments,” Gibbs drawled, edging her toward the register where Tony was paying for something.  “If you still want to try to talk to John why don’t you take the backseat?”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Tony bought me a book,” John gushed as soon as Kate was close enough to escort him to the door while Gibbs paid for their meal.

“That’s great.”  Kate couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm.  “What did you get?”

John grinned as he handed over the large, dusty hardback that had been marked down time and time again. 

“Mysteries of the Ancient Americas,” Kate read, glancing at Tony as John reclaimed it before she could examine it further.

“I tried to get him to get the Tom Clancy novel but that’s what he wanted,” Tony explained, twirling a finger around his ear to show what he thought of the decision.

When Gibbs joined them, they stepped out into the bright morning sunshine and made their way back across the parking lot. 

“I’ll sit in back,” Kate told Tony as they neared the car.

“Shotgun Kate is giving up the front seat?” Tony asked skeptically.

John looked up from his study of the book cover but didn’t protest.  When Gibbs clicked the remote the door locks popped open.  Remembering Kate’s earlier lecture John tucked his treasure under his arm and reached for the handle, beating her to it.

“Thank you,” Kate smiled at him as he opened the door for her.  She was somewhat surprised at the guiding hand on top of her head as she got in.

“What?” John asked, looking at the amused glances from Gibbs and Tony.  “Did I do that wrong?”

“You did that perfect,” Tony grinned, waiting for John to get in next to Kate before opening the front door.  “You’d make a darn good cop.”

“So,” Kate turned to John as soon as the car was in motion.  “Let’s talk.”

Having just opened the hardback, John frowned, his disdain of the idea clearly evident on his face.  He blinked at her, not putting the book down.

“Okaaayyy…. maybe later,” Kate acquiesced with a conciliatory smile.

John nodded his thanks and absently patted her hand, already losing himself in the first page.

 

***

 

Working twenty-four hours straight wasn’t all that unusual for Abby, but since she’d been up most of the night prior to the current case as well, she was beginning to fray around the edges a little.  Even though she had completed most of the items on her list of tasks and was merely waiting for results, she couldn’t quite bring herself to go back to the computer.  Her caffeine/sugar high was long gone but sleep was out of the question anyway.  Nervous and worried about the possible consequences of being caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she was also excited about the strange technology.

She thought talking to Ducky might help but knew at the moment the coroner was napping on the cot in his office after attempting abbreviated autopsies on the three burned corpses.  Unfortunately, they had proved too desiccated for the procedure and literally crumbled away under his knife.  He had scheduled a CAT scan for one of them around ten and she would rather lay on her futon and stew than wake the old dear in the meantime.

Finally, she gave up and climbed off her cushion, wandering back into the lab.  Picking up the strange metallic button she rolled it between her fingers as she studied the photo of the bruise on John’s face, comparing the size and shape.  Glancing around guiltily even though she was sure she was alone, she went back to her desk and dug out the mirror from her bag. 

Her hand shook slightly as she held the device gingerly between her thumb and forefinger and watched in the mirror as she raised it close to her temple.

“Do not!” an impossibly deep voice shouted as the glass door slid open causing her to jump, drop the mirror, and unintentionally press the object to her skin.

Abby screamed at the unexpected pain shooting through her head.  She clenched her eyes shut and suddenly there were hands on her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” an unfamiliar female voice soothed.  “The worst is over, it won’t hurt you anymore.”

“Get it off!” Abby managed without opening her eyes.

“Don’t move,” the woman instructed and with one more tiny sting the pressure was gone.

Feeling shaky as she opened her eyes, Abby watched the blonde woman slip the device into her jacket pocket.  “What is that thing?” she asked shakily.

“Sorry,” the woman smiled apologetically as she shook her head.

“You can’t take it,” Abby insisted a little stronger.  “That’s evidence on a murder case.”

“Murder?” the woman asked with concern, still crouched in front of Abby.

“Who has been murdered?” the deep voice asked and Abby finally registered the dark mountain of a man in a fedora looming over her.

“Whoa,” Abby exclaimed sitting back in her chair.  “Nice hat.  Who are you people?”

“I’m Major Samantha Carter and this is my associate T… uh, Murray.” 

“You don’t look Navy to me,” Abby dissented, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.  “You can’t be in here.”

Major Carter rose to her feet.  “Actually, we’re with the Air Force.  We’re looking for our colleague Doctor Daniel Jackson.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abby lied, worried about her friend John and not willing to put him in any more danger.

“Look, we already know you were trying to get information on Daniel.  Just please, tell us he’s okay,” Carter pleaded fearfully.  “He’s not the murder victim, is he?”

“No,” Abby broke, torn by the anxiety in the woman’s face.  “He’s fine.  He’s in protective custody.  At least we think it’s him.”

“Please explain,” Murray insisted.

“I can’t give you any details, but the man they’re bringing in has lost his memory…” Abby trailed off at the alarmed look the two visitors gave each other.  “Now you have to leave.  There is very sensitive information in this office and your presence here may even nullify evidence.”

“Pack it up,” a gray-haired man ordered as he led a small group of men and women in black, unadorned BDUs into the office and lab.

“Stop!” Abby flew out of her chair only to be restrained by Murray.

“Ms. Sciuto,” Director Morrow addressed Abby as he stepped through the door.  “We don’t have a choice in the matter.  This investigation is no longer in our hands.”

“But sir!”

“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill,” the tall man introduced himself.  “And this is a matter of national security.  Now I need you to tell me everything you know about this case.”

Defeated, Abby slumped against the hard chest behind her.  “Gibbs is gonna freak,” she muttered tiredly.

 

***

 

“How’s that profile coming, Kate?” Gibbs asked with a devilish grin as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. 

Kate glowered back at him.  “How do you think?”

After reading for several hours John had finally succumbed to sleep, cradling the open book in his arms against his chest.  He snored softly in concert with Tony who was currently cuddled up with the passenger door.

“I hate the backseat,” Kate complained under her breath, ignoring the snort from Gibbs as she focused her attention on the passing scenery out the side window.  When the car began to slow she sat up straight.  “What’s wrong?”

Gibbs swore under his breath as he fell in with the cars and trucks trying to squeeze into one lane in front of him, essentially coming to a standstill.  “Looks like a wreck up ahead.”

“Damn,” Kate exclaimed, taking in the unmoving row of traffic lined up over the hill.  “At this rate we’ll never get home.”

“Never say never,” Gibbs replied as he turned the car onto the shoulder and began to edge past the stationary vehicles to his left.

“Passing on the right is illegal,” Kate stated conversationally, not at all surprised to be ignored.

When they crested the rise, they could see a jackknifed truck across both northbound lanes in the valley below them.  A tow truck was on the scene amid the flash of lights from the highway patrol cars, but no one seemed to be actually doing anything.  Ominously, another set of blue lights flashed them from behind and an angry state trooper also using the shoulder as a lane motioned them off of the road. 

Gibbs glared at Kate in the mirror, daring her to say a word as he pulled off the shoulder onto the dirt.  Kate wisely kept the ‘I told you so’ unspoken.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the patrolman growled at Gibbs a minute later when he stormed up to the window.

“This is official NCIS business,” Gibbs informed the man tersely as he opened his badge and then showed his ID.  “We need to get into DC as soon as possible.”

The cop bent slightly to check out the car, watching as first Tony then John woke up and looked around.  “See that dirt road,” the officer said at last, seemingly satisfied that nothing was amiss as he pointed down the interstate in the direction of the wreck.

“Yeah,” Gibbs nodded, spotting the unmarked turnoff about a quarter mile down the hill. 

“That’ll take you over to highway 50 if you don’t mind a shortcut.”

“Ha!  Shortcut is Gibbs’ middle name,” Tony muttered as he rubbed his eyes and automatically turned to check on John.

“It’s rough,” the trooper warned.  “You might be better off waiting in line here.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Gibbs replied.  “Thanks.”

Kate sighed and tugged the book out of John’s arms as Gibbs slowly began to steer the car back onto the shoulder.  “Trust me; you won’t be able to read,” she told him as she closed it and dropped it into the seat between them.

John gave it up without a fight and looked over his shoulder as the trooper spoke into the radio on his shoulder.  The cop smiled at him broadly as they pulled away.

 

***

 

Not allowed into her own lab while they cleaned out the evidence related to the case, Abby paced the hall just outside.  The behemoth who stood guard over the door seemed aware that only the orders from her Director and not his impressive mass nor the thinly veiled threats from the Colonel kept her out.

“No harm will come to your personal belongings or to your equipment,” Murray offered to calm her.

She turned to glare at him, realizing he was studying her intently.  “What are you looking at?” she challenged.

“I am looking at the markings on your skin,” came the unexpectedly honest answer.  “May I?”

Abby froze in indecision as she continued to stare at him.  The man seemed genuinely interested if a little odd.  He took her reticence as approval and moved forward to brush a pigtail out of the way to better observe the spider web on the back of her neck.

“What is the significance of this design?”

“It’s personal,” Abby snapped at him, stepping back.  “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand the concept of self-expression.  So unless you’ve got one humdinger of a tat hidden somewhere on that gorgeous bod of yours I really don’t want to get into this with you.”

Murray did a visual check of the door behind him then raised the brim of his hat slightly to reveal a beautiful gold tattoo embedded in his forehead. 

“Whoa,” Abby breathed appreciatively.  “Facial.  I bet you never get to testify.”

With a formal bow of his head Murray lowered his hat just as an angry Ducky flew out of the elevator.  “There’s a military force in the morgue and they’re absconding with all three bodies…” Ducky faltered mid-sentence as he caught sight of Abby’s face and then her large companion.  “What happened?” 

“Let’s just say we lost jurisdiction over the case,” Abby explained as Ducky tilted her chin and examined the blossoming bruise.

“To whom?”

“Believe it or not, the Air Force.  At least that’s what they’re claiming,” Abby reported doubtfully.

Ducky frowned at the imposing man guarding the lab before gently touching Abby’s face again.  “Did he do this to you?”

Murray merely raised an eyebrow at the accusation. 

“Of course not,” Abby grimaced.  “I did something stupid.  Please don’t tell Gibbs.”

“I won’t have to,” Ducky harrumphed as he narrowed his eyes, recognizing the size and shape of the bruise from the photo Abby had shown him earlier.  “And I very much doubt he will approve of your method of investigation.” 

“Yeah, I know.  They’re taking everything, Ducky,” Abby sighed as she glanced back at her door worriedly, “Including John when he gets here.”

“No harm will come to Daniel Jackson,” Murray promised.  “He will be among friends.”

“I hope so,” Abby said sliding down the wall to sit in the floor while they waited, too tired to pace anymore.

 

***

 

“John,” Kate began as the car careened up and down bumpy little hills leaving a plume of dust behind them.  She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard.  “Are you still experiencing memory flashes?”

Unable to read due to the rough ride and strapped into the back seat next to her, John felt a little trapped.  Tony turned in his seat and offered him a sympathetic look but Gibbs kept his eyes on the road although he was certainly listening.  Taking a deep breath then blowing it out slowly through his mouth, John stared out the window for a second before answering.  “Yes.”

Kate startled as if she hadn’t really expected a response, especially not that one.  “You are?”

“Yes,” John repeated.

“How often?

John shrugged.  “Pretty regularly, I don’t let them get to me as much anymore.”  He held up a hand to ward off the inevitable next question.  “One or two an hour,” he elaborated.  “Nothing too dramatic for the most part, just faces or, ah, places I think I might have been.  Exotic places,” he added with a meaningful if fleeting look at Tony.

“Really?” Tony asked, also surprised by the revelation and a little irritated with himself that he hadn’t even suspected.  He’d proudly thought that all was well and good with John since their talk.

“What do you remember _exactly_ ,” Gibbs asked, cutting to the chase.

Shifting uncomfortably in the seat, John avoided making eye contact with anyone.  “I’m still not a hundred percent certain, but I think my name really is Daniel.  Somehow that feels right.”

“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Kate noted as she reached out to squeeze his forearm.

“I’m not so sure that’s who I want to be.  Daniel’s memories are um, unnerving to say the least.  And I think he killed those men,” John continued objectively. 

Gibbs glanced up sharply.  “How?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Tony warned, reaching out to grab the dash as Gibbs abruptly stopped the car.  They all lurched forward then slammed back against the seats.  “You have the right to remain silent and you have the right to an attorney,” Tony finished defiantly.

“DiNozzo.”

“Gibbs, I guarantee you he does not understand his rights,” Tony argued.  “He may act like he knows what’s going on but in reality, I believe he’s just playing along most of the time.”

“Tony’s right,” Kate jumped in.  “We’re on pretty shaky Miranda grounds here.”

“I’m not looking for a confession.  The man was handcuffed to a chair and unconscious,” Gibbs pointed out gruffly.  “Unless he did a backwards Houdini I don’t see how he could have possibly done it.  But I would like to know why he thinks he did.”

“Oh,” Tony said, his righteous indignation melting away.  With a sickening epiphany, he knew his emotional attachment to the victim was affecting his judgment.

“Yeah, sorry,” Kate added guiltily.

“It’s okay,” John soothed.  “If I did something wrong I should be punished.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony groused, turning back to face the windshield. 

“How do you know?” John pressed as expected.

Weary of questions, Tony shook his head and didn’t answer.  ‘I just know’ was not going to cut it with Gibbs, or John either.

“Why do you think you killed those men?” Gibbs asked, turning fully in the seat to observe John’s answer.

“I don’t… I don’t think he meant to do it,” John faltered slightly.  “I think it was just a reflex or… or maybe something programmed into him.  I don’t know.” 

“Programmed?” Gibbs prodded.

“They touched something in his mind they weren’t supposed to.  They triggered something, a memory maybe and he just went off.”

“So you killed them with your mind,” Gibbs stated concisely.

“Yes, he did.”

Gibbs turned back around and put the car in gear.  The tires spun slightly where they had settled in soft sand and they fishtailed as they made it back to the harder surface of the road.

“You don’t believe me,” John stated.

“No,” Gibbs allowed quietly.  “I think DiNozzo is right, you don’t understand what’s going on.  And you keep referring to yourself in third person, so obviously, you don’t think you did it either.”

John rubbed his ear as they drove on in silence.

 

***

 

“Well?” Jack asked as Sam looked up from Abby’s computer.

“It’s him,” Sam smiled in obvious relief.  “I just verified the fingerprints they have for their John Doe with the ones on file at the SGC for Daniel.  If they had had access they would have already identified him.”

“That lab girl said except for his memory he’s a little beat up but fine.”

“Yes sir, she seemed to be quite taken with him.”

“That figures,” Jack grumbled as he sat on the edge of the desk.  “So the wiped memory along with the French fried stiffs… this has Oma Desala written all over it.  Do these people have any clue what happened?”

“I doubt it, but there are some interesting leads,” Sam said, pointing to the file in front of her.  “Do you remember Master Sergeant Andrew Weber?”

“Weber,” Jack pondered for a moment, “That smart ass Marine who used to be in charge of the gate guards?  Didn’t he quit last year?”

“Yes sir, he walked away from his pension.  He said he had a civilian offer that was too good to pass up.  It was suspicious so they kept tabs on him for a while before he mysteriously vanished a couple months later.”

“NID recruited him,” Jack stated with certainty.  “They have a nasty habit of making people disappear.”

“Well he’s one of the ‘French fried stiffs’.”

“Really.  Who are the other two?  Anybody else we know?”

“No sir.”  Sam handed over the file.  “One was the young Marine on the security tape who picked Daniel up at the airport.  He has no ties to the SGC and was probably recruited as muscle by Weber specifically for this operation.  We may never know who the other man was without viable prints or DNA.”

“This looks familiar,” Jack said after thumbing through the file.  He held up an image of part of a face.  “I’d know that lobeless ear anywhere.  And I don’t even have to guess where that particular mark came from.”

“They used a memory device on him,” Sam agreed.  “We’ve got the interface; Ms. Sciuto literally had it on her when we came in.  But there’s no handheld portion with the rest of the physical evidence, and the Tok’ra have the only Zatarc machine to operate it as far as we know.”

“Wait a minute, when we found Daniel last time you said that thing wouldn’t bring back his memories anyway.”

“That was the general consensus at the time.  I still don’t see how it could work unless they modified it or supplemented it in some way we didn’t think of.”

“And they did it without the Zan… Zac… uh, Tok’ra thing?”

“I think they built their own control,” Carter explained, getting to her feet and moving into the lab without looking back, knowing her CO would follow.  She rummaged through the box of evidence and pulled out a strange looking mechanism.  “See this?  According to the notes they’re assuming it’s some sort of torture device because it had Daniel’s blood on it.”

Jack’s lip thinned.  “You sure it’s not?”

“I think it’s some type of delivery system.”  Sam pushed on the tip and it disappeared back into the head of the gadget.  When she pressed the button it snapped back out with a little sizzle of electricity.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Jack balked.

“I don’t think so. It’s probably just a short.  But look at the very end.  It has a tiny clamp that opens when it pops out.”

“That holds what?”

“Something very small and very flat,” Sam reasoned as she studied the implement carefully and not for the first time.

“Like a computer chip?” Jack asked.  “They tagged him.”

Sam looked up in surprise, her eyes growing wide.  “I was thinking more along the lines of some type of internal power booster, but that’s a definite possibility, sir.”

“They could be tracking him right now.”

“I have the cell number of the agent in charge of the group that’s bringing him in.”

“Yeah, good,” Jack decided thoughtfully.  “We should probably call and give ‘em a heads up just in case.”

 

***

 

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked quietly.  “Is it your ear again?”

Tony turned around at the worried tone and frowned to find John pale and gasping quietly as he clutched at his ear.  “Gibbs.”

“Give him some Motrin,” Gibbs advised Kate, unable to do anything else at the moment but drive.  “If it’s bad we’ll take him straight to Ducky.”

“Maybe we should go to the nearest hospital,” Tony suggested.  “You’ve seen his back, he never once complained about the pain.  This must be bad.”

Gibbs nodded his agreement as he checked the rearview mirror.  His frown intensified as they started up the next hill which curved on the incline.  “We’ve got company.”

Tony shifted his concerned gaze from John to the window.  Briefly he spotted a dark gray panel truck that was rapidly gaining on them before the road straightened and he could see nothing but their own trail of dust. 

“I don’t have anything to give him and the Motrin is in the trunk,” Kate replied after digging through her purse looking for any kind of pain medication.

John cried out and Kate pulled him to her as much as their seatbelts would allow.  He fell into the embrace without complaint and shook slightly as he huddled against her.  As they rounded the next curve Gibbs slammed on the brakes sending the car sliding sideways, narrowly avoiding the large pine tree that completely blocked the road.

“Dammit!” Gibbs swore, smacking his hand against the steering wheel as dirt and gravel thrown up by the near miss rained down on them.  “This is starting to feel like an ambush.” 

“How is he?” Tony asked as he opened his door, waving away the settling dust.

“Not good,” Kate said anxiously, rocking the moaning man in her arms as he clamped a hand firmly over his ear.

“Hang in there, buddy,” Tony offered with one last apprehensive glance.  He got out of the car and jumped across the ditch to scout the base of the tree while Gibbs backtracked around the curve.

“Tony!” Kate shouted a minute later as John went limp.

DiNozzo scrambled back onto the road and yanked the car door open just as Gibbs came trotting into sight with his weapon drawn.  Kate undid her seatbelt as Tony unfastened John’s.  Together they managed to stretch him out the length of the seat with his head in Kate’s lap. 

“His pulse is too fast,” Kate said as her fingers lingered at John’s throat.

“Damn,” Gibbs swore as he dropped down next to Tony and saw the state of the witness.  “The truck has stopped in the middle of the road just around the bend.  They seem to know we aren’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, the tree was downed with a chain saw.  Recently, today even, the cut is still moist,” Tony reported without taking his eyes off of John.

Gibbs put away his gun and pulled out his cell phone, surprised to get even a weak signal as it began to ring.  “It’s Abby,” he said, looking at the display.

 

***

 

O’Neill played with the variety of pens on the desk while he waited for the call to go through and the agent named Gibbs to answer his cell.

“Abby, listen up, we’re in trouble,” a male voice started as soon as the phone clicked, sans any usual greeting.

“What kind of trouble?” Jack asked, leaning forward in his chair in concern.  He frowned at the bad connection.

“Who the hell is this?” the man demanded after a brief, static-filled pause.

“This is Colonel Jack O’Neill…”

“Say again?” Gibbs requested, raising his voice to be heard over the increasing interference.

“I said I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill, United States Air Force,” Jack repeated a little louder.  “I assume you are Agent Gibbs?”

“Good guess,” Gibbs answered shortly.  “Put Abby on.”

“You’ve got one of my people,” Jack retorted.  “And you might as well know I’m taking charge of this investigation.  So I repeat; what kind of trouble are you in?”

“Look, _Colonel_ ,” Gibbs snarled.  “Don’t confuse your rank with my authority.  I need to speak with someone I trust.  Now!”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud.  Carter,” Jack barked, “Get the lab girl back in here.”

Sam sprinted out the door and came back half a minute later followed by an anxious Abby and Teal’c.  Jack hit the speaker phone.  “Go ahead,” he told Abby.

“Gibbs, they’ve taken everything, all the evidence, even the bodies.  Right now they’re deleting stuff from the computers…”

“Abby!” Gibbs broke in.  “Listen to me, use the GPS function of my phone to find us and send backup.  We’re pinned down by unfriendlies and the witness is in some kind of distress.”

“I’m on it,” Abby replied, practically pushing Jack out of her chair as she attacked her keyboard.

“Carter, get us a helicopter and some SFs,” Jack ordered.  Sam opened her cell phone and moved just outside the sliding doors as she spoke rapidly.

“Did… really turn over… case?” Gibbs asked Abby while he impatiently waited, his voice cracking up badly.

“He had to,” Jack explained for the tech, not wanting to distract her.  “We’ve got a Presidential order.”

“Abs?” Gibbs sought confirmation.

“Yeah, it’s true,” Abby said without looking up as her fingers worked their magic.  “How’s John?”

“Daniel,” Jack corrected automatically. 

There was another pause and the connection sputtered ominously.  “Not… great,” Gibbs finally said.

“Major Davis had two MH-53s and a special ops team on standby,” Carter reported from the door.  “They’re on their way to pick us up.”

“Gibbs, I’ve got you!” Abby shouted as she grabbed a pen and rapidly wrote down the coordinates.

“Hang on, Gibbs,” Jack advised, snatching the paper out of Abby’s hand almost before she could finish writing on it.  “The cavalry’s coming.”

 “Gibbs?” Abby called out as the uninvited visitors hurriedly exited her office but the line was already dead.

 

***

 

“Gibbs?” Kate prodded, sounding uneasy.

“Damn, I lost her.”

“Battery?” DiNozzo questioned as he flipped open his own phone and got nothing but static.  “I guess not.”

“They’re probably jamming us,” Gibbs mused, resisting the urge to lob the useless piece of technology into the debris of the fallen pine. 

“They can do that?” Kate asked, still cradling John’s head in her lap.

“Kate, they held up traffic on a major interstate for God knows how long.  I don’t think blocking a simple radio signal is gonna be a big problem for them.  Besides, there are all kinds of antennae on that truck.”

“What do we do now?” Tony asked tensely.

Gibbs rubbed his gritty eyes.  “We take cover and hope the cavalry arrives in time.  Even by helicopter it’s going to take them a while to get here.”

“You don’t think they’ll open fire, do you?  Surely they won’t risk injuring John if they want him,” Kate insisted.

“Who knows?  They may have got what they wanted and have come to kill him to keep him from talking,” Gibbs reasoned.

Clenching his teeth and staying low, Tony suddenly reached into the car and grabbed John by the shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s not safe in there,” Tony said.  “At least on the outside there are two pieces of metal for the bullets to pass through if things get hinky.”  With a grunt as he eased John off Kate’s lap, grateful for the assist when Gibbs leaned in to help move the deadweight.

John groaned and protested feebly as they pulled him out.  Kate followed and shut the door behind her, guiding them as they lowered John to sit in front of the back tire.

Tony patted John’s cheek until one blue eye squinted open to peer up at him.  “Hey buddy, you okay?” he asked, managing to sound cheerful and unafraid.

“Wha’ happened,” John slurred as he tried to focus on Tony’s face.

Gibbs pulled his gun and hunkered down at the corner of the car on the back end to monitor the area.

“Does your ear still hurt?” Kate sat down beside John and offered him a drink from the bottle of water she’d had in her bag.

Dazed and confused, John shook his head slightly as he accepted the water and promptly spilled it.  “Sorry,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the car and closing his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Kate assured.  She helped him hold the bottle as he gulped down a few mouthfuls.  With her free hand she took a pulse at his wrist.  “His heart rate’s down some but still a little fast.”

“One of you needs to go around by the front bumper and keep a lookout,” Gibbs ordered brusquely.

Tony moved to get up but Kate grabbed his arm.  “You stay,” she offered with a small smile.  After glancing at John, Tony nodded and took the water as he settled back down in front of him.  He put the cap on it and set it aside while Kate checked her gun then moved into position.

“What’s going on?” John queried in a much more coherent voice as he finally opened his eyes again.

“We’re trapped,” Tony told him truthfully.  “They’re coming for you.”

John held his gaze steadily for a minute.  “I’ll go.”

“No.”

“Not gonna happen,” Gibbs backed Tony up.  “You’re my responsibility and those bastards are not getting their hands on you on my watch.”

“I don’t want anyone to die because of me,” John insisted heatedly.  “Let me go with them and you can follow.”

“John, if they take you, chances are they won’t leave us alive,” Tony pointed out.  “If they want a fight, we’ll give them one but we’re not just gonna hand you over.”

“I’ve got movement,” Kate warned, “In the bushes at ten o’clock from my position.”

Gibbs nodded for Tony to take his place as he moved to the front end of the car with Kate.  Drawing his weapon, Tony felt John tug at his jacket and realized the man was pulling out his secondary gun from his holster.  Their eyes met again and Tony gave John a tiny smile as they turned to take firing positions over the trunk. 

Without warning something round and silver sailed over their heads to land in the tangle of limbs next to Kate.  There was a high-pitched whine that steadily grew in volume, but no smoke or gas. 

“Move!” Gibbs shouted as Tony pushed John away from the car and towards the ditch.  Kate went out the other direction with Gibbs right behind her. 

When John stumbled and fell Tony threw himself over him just as an explosion of white light detonated, sending a shockwave of energy careening over them.  Further from the blast Tony managed to turn his head to take in the scene.  Gibbs went down hard and Kate lay motionless a few feet beyond him. 

Feeling like he was moving in slow motion Tony fumbled for his cuffs and managed to hook John’s left wrist to his own before tossing his keys away.  Booted feet stepped into view and Tony attempted to raise his gun but an electrical charge surrounded him, encompassing John as well and sending them both to oblivion.

 

***

 

“Got him,” the man reported into his radio as he stuck his zat gun into the waistband of his pants.  “Bring the truck up.”  He bent to roll the body off his target, frowning to find them chained together.  “Damn it,” he muttered, searching the interloper’s pockets for the key.

The truck rumbled into sight, gracelessly turned around on the rutted road then backed towards him as he guided it in.  “You got any handcuff keys?” the man called out to the driver as he stepped out of the cab.

“Why would I?  Check the other two.”

“There’s no time for that,” the other, smaller man admonished as he opened the back doors from the inside.  “They might have gotten a message out.  We need to clear the area.”

The first man sighed and tugged the zat out, aiming it at Tony for the second shot.

“No,” the scientist ordered.  “That’s too risky.  Doctor Jackson will be more cooperative if we have another hostage anyway.”

“You don’t know that for a fact,” the driver complained, reluctant to lug around the extra weight on the say so of the geek.

“I do.  Bring them both.”

With a sigh of annoyance, the driver joined his accomplice and they each grabbed a man under the arms to drag them in tandem to the truck.  After much heaving and grunting, they finally managed to wrangle them none too gently inside.

“Wait a minute.”  Dropping back to the ground the first man rounded the car, stepped over Gibbs and kicked his way into the sharp, piney limbs of the tree to retrieve the round device.  “Go,” he shouted, jumping into the back as the truck pulled away.

 

***

 

John couldn’t seem to shake the bizarre hallucination of being dragged along the ground then manhandled into a metal box.  But the sand in his shoes along with the pain as he was unceremoniously dumped on top of something lumpy and warm led him to believe what he was experiencing might be real.  There was a loud slam and he was aware of movement around and over him as the ground began to sway and bump in a nauseating way that reminded him of Gibbs’ driving.  A disconcerting moan sounded very close to his ear.

“Neanderthals,” a voice above him complained and suddenly he was being pushed and tugged off his rather comfortable padding.  He managed to open his eyes but was confused to find a now familiar head of hair at an odd angle under his shoulder and a worried face he didn’t recognize behind oversized glasses staring down at him.

“Doctor Jackson, could you roll just a smidgen?  I believe you are squishing your friend.”

“Tony,” John rasped out as he dug deep for the energy to move.  He slid sideways along the floor of a relatively large vehicle, wincing at the heavy pull on his left wrist as an extra arm moved with him.  Snaking out his tremulous right hand to hold over Tony’s mouth and nose, he was relieved to feel regular, intermittent puffs of warm air against his palm.

“I understand the first time one is subjected to a zatnikertel it takes a while to recover,” the small man prattled on as he grabbed DiNozzo by the legs and laboriously straightened him as best he could.  “I’m happy to say I have no firsthand knowledge of that.  But you certainly do.”  Although panting slightly with the exertion, he managed to keep up the nervous monologue the entire time he arranged Tony’s limbs. 

“You probably don’t even remember the first time you experienced one.  What am I saying?  Of course, you don’t remember, you don’t remember anything at the moment.  That’s such a shame really because I have so many things I’d like to ask you.  Did you know that you’ve been zatted more times than any other human?  In fact, you’ve been on the receiving end of more alien technology than anyone else on Earth including Goa’uld hand devices and staff blasts, some of which were fatal by the way.  They keep records of everything, you know.  No, you probably weren’t aware of that.  There,” he said at last, finally satisfied with his handiwork as Tony lay on his back in an eerie, unnaturally rigid position with his right arm draped over his abdomen.

Still disoriented, John managed to rise up on an elbow with the stranger’s assistance to have a look around the dim, computer filled confines.  “Who are you?” he asked when his blurry gaze finally came back around to his little helper.

“Yes!  Hello.  I’m Doctor Oliver Huntington.  I’m a psycho-physiologist specializing in the study of counterintuitive logic although due to recent events I’ve branched out into the science of memory, if you will,” the man introduced himself enthusiastically, pumping John’s free hand.  “Until I took my present position I worked at area 52 for several years studying… well, you.  Don’t be angry with your superiors, they were unaware.  It was a well-kept secret.”

“Me?” John asked in surprise, his voice still rough. 

“Aw, yes, you still don’t know who you are, do you?  You are Doctor Daniel Jackson; archaeologist, linguist, diplomat, lateral thinker and all-around genius… and space explorer extraordinaire.  Although very few people know about that last one,” Oliver gushed giddily.  “I can’t believe you’re here.  I must confess to a bit of hero worship where you’re concerned.”

John blinked, gathering Tony awkwardly to his chest as he used his feet to push away from the crazy little man.  To his chagrin, Oliver jumped right in and helped him until they were settled up against the back door, Tony slumped in his arms.

“That’s better,” Oliver said, appearing pleased as he brushed the hair out of Tony’s eyes.  “He’s an excellent specimen, isn’t he?  He’ll be fine.”

Tightening his grip around Tony protectively John merely stared at the man who purported to know far more about him than he did about himself.

 

***

 

Consciousness slammed into Gibbs with a sledgehammer in the guise of a headache.  The frantic orders from his brain to move were summarily dismissed by his mutinous limbs as his body continued to lie where it fell.  His eyes were useless, leaving him in the dark although he was fairly certain they were open and the warm sun on the exposed side of his face signified daylight.

Forcing his head up, he spit out a mouthful of sand.  “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, trying to get his bearings.  “Kate?  DiNozzo?”  With no answer forthcoming he tried once again to get up on all fours, grateful beyond measure to succeed this time.  Running his hand over the ground in front of him in a grid pattern he quickly located his weapon and secured it in his holster.  Still on his knees he reached to his right until his fingertips brushed the prickly needles of the downed pine. 

Since Kate had been closest to the blast he crawled forward following the edge of the tree and sweeping the other hand out in front of him along the ground until he brushed against the sole of a shoe.  “Kate,” he called out again, shaking the foot.  Getting no answer, he cautiously ran his hands up her legs as he progressed towards her head in search of broken bones and gaping wounds.  Luckily the mental vision he’d had of flying shrapnel proved false and he found no obvious injuries, but Kate didn’t stir under his ministrations either.

In the distance he could hear the beating blades of an approaching helicopter, more than one to Gibbs’ well-trained ear.  By the time he reached Kate’s torso the noise was intense and the sand around them began to whip violently.  Gibbs closed his eyes and ducked his face as he bent to cover Kate’s head with his arms, unsure if the cavalry had in fact arrived in time.  He was sickeningly certain it hadn’t.  Within minutes the roar and the created wind died down, replaced by the sound of running feet.  Gibbs reached for his gun just in case.

“All clear,” an unknown male in a distinct military tone called out a minute later.

“Gibbs?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs sighed and fell onto his back as he recognized the Colonel’s voice.  “I can’t see.  Did they take the witness?”

“Yeah, they got him,” came the hard answer. 

“I can’t get Agent Todd to wake up,” Gibbs went on despondently.  “How’s DiNozzo?”

“Uh, there’s not anyone else here,” a female said as a hand touched his arm to help him sit up.

“What?  He was over there… somewhere,” Gibbs pointed to where he thought the back of the car should be, squinting as he noticed streaks of light starting to form.

“Two bodies were dragged to this spot then lifted into a large vehicle,” a new, deeper voice stated with certainty from several feet away.

“What the hell happened here and why would they take DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned adamantly.  “Somebody talk to me, dammit.”

“The effects you’re feeling will wear off soon,” the woman assured, not really answering his question as even more people gathered around him.  “But we’ll get you checked out anyway.”

“Concussion grenade?” the Colonel asked in a quiet aside evidently not meant for Gibbs to hear.

“I think so.”

“What’s a concussion grenade?” Gibbs demanded as he was helped to his feet

“Sorry,” O’Neill said.  “Need to know.”

Gibbs was nudged out of the way and although objects were only beginning to take on actual shapes he knew Kate was being loaded onto a backboard.  He relaxed a little when she finally let out a low groan of dissent.  Someone led him to the car and seated him in the front on the passenger side. 

A hand waved in front of his face and he slapped it away.  “I see your vision’s coming back,” O’Neill noted wryly squatting down in front of him.  “The man you had in protective custody is Doctor Daniel Jackson.”

“We had a tentative ID,” Gibbs confirmed.  “I guess he knows some pretty important things?”

“He’s important,” O’Neill agreed.  “He’s also important to me personally, to all of us,” he amended as someone nearby cleared her throat. 

“Yeah, well they’ve got one of my people too, so I sure as hell need to know what you know.”

“We’ll get him back.”

“Yes, _we_ will,” Gibbs insisted, prepared to dig in his heels on the matter.

 

***

 

The dull buzz of voices gradually became clearer and Tony moaned as he opened his eyes.  He was surprised to find a man with large glasses practically in his face and jumped back reflexively.  A pair of arms tightened around him from behind.

“We’re alright for now, Tony,” John whispered in his ear.  “How do you feel?”

“Ah…” Tony made a face as he thought about it, noticing John hadn’t loosened his grip at all.  “Tingly, I guess, like a bunch of ants are crawling all over my skin.  Who’s this guy?”

“This is Doctor Oliver Huntington,” John said sounding deceptively calm.  “He’s been telling me some rather wild tales.”

“Wild but true,” Oliver smiled.

John harrumphed doubtfully.  “Anyway, he’s with the people who put something in my ear to make me forget everything.”

“No, no,” Oliver corrected.  “Your neurons are intact.  The chip was merely designed to suppress the conscious memories so we could get to the buried ones underneath.  Apparently it worked.”

“You’re the reason his ear hurt,” Tony accused.  “You’re why he passed out from pain.”

“Well, yes, I’m afraid I was,” Oliver admitted sheepishly.  “I had the receiver set too high and it caused a feedback loop of high frequency sound waves when we got too close.  That must have been excruciating, Doctor Jackson, and I do apologize.  I fixed the problem as soon as I realized…”

“Doc!” one of the men warned from the front of the truck.  “I think that’s enough.”

Oliver waved away the reprimand.  “In my own defense, we weren’t ready for a practical demonstration yet, and certainly not on you!  We were months, maybe years away from being ready.  Weber jumped the gun.  I suppose that’s the trouble with a rogue operation; it’s full of loose cannons.  We’re here now to resolve the situation.  Cleanup, if you will…” 

“That’s it,” the muscle man declared as he advanced on Oliver from the front of the truck.  “Let’s go.”  He grabbed the smaller man by the arm and pulled him away.

“We’ll talk later,” Oliver called back ardently as he was pushed through the cloth divider and dumped into the passenger seat of the cab.

The bigger man took a seat in front of the computers to keep an eye on the prisoners.  Tony stared him down for a minute then turned in John’s arms to finger the padlock on the back door.  They definitely weren’t getting out that way.  Still John didn’t release him.

“John?” Tony asked uncomfortably after a few more minutes of the guard’s scrutiny.

“Yeah?”

“You gonna hold me like this for the rest of the trip?”

John didn’t answer right away and seemed reluctant to let him go.  “Sorry,” he finally murmured, dropping his arms as Tony did a three-sixty out and away to disentangle himself then scooted back to join him against the door. 

“I guess this is a little awkward,” Tony commented referring to being connected on the same side.  “I was in a hurry at the time.”

“You did this?”

Tony shrugged.  “I wasn’t gonna just let ‘em take you.”

“Tony…”

“Hey, I was just doing my job,” Tony cut in.  “Gibbs would have done the same.”

Letting his hand drop to rest on Tony’s knee because he really didn’t have any other place to put it, John smiled to himself.  “Thanks anyway,” he said shyly.

 

***

 

By the time Kate had been loaded onto one of the 53s she was awake and managing one-word responses to questions from the medic.  But like Gibbs had been on waking, she was completely blind and complained of a massive headache. 

“Kate, you’re gonna be okay,” Gibbs assured as he climbed up to the door and leaned in to speak to her.  “The effects are only temporary.  I’m almost back to normal already.”

“Tony?  John?” Kate asked, sounding a little worse for wear.

“Captured.”

Kate flexed her strapped down hands.  “Find them?”

“Yeah, we will,” Gibbs replied with conviction.  When an airman tried to get him to get all the way into the helicopter he jumped back to the ground and went in search of Colonel O’Neill instead.  “I’m staying with you for the duration,” he announced when he found him nearby talking on a radio. 

O’Neill studied him for a second then finally nodded his consent.  “As long as you remember who’s in charge,” he replied as Major Carter joined them.

“Sir, I’ve got an idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“If they implanted a locator chip in Daniel’s ear, we might be able to use it to find him.”

“Locator chip?” Gibbs asked. 

“Yeah, we think that’s how they were able to track you,” Carter supplied after another nod from O’Neill. 

“With all the cell phones and radios around how do you propose to track a frequency you can’t even identify?”

“It has to be something unique if they could stay far enough away that you didn’t even know you were being followed,” Carter pointed out.  “I can use SATCOM to search for any unusual signals in the area.”

“You can get access to a satellite just like that?”

“We do have a certain amount of guaranteed access,” the Colonel smirked.  “When we need it.”

“Right,” Gibbs muttered.  “No doubt in conjunction with your deep space radar telemetry research?”

“Exactly.”

“If you can set it up, we have the equipment you’ll need at NCIS headquarters,” Gibbs offered with a grudging admiration of their resources.  “Abby can help you.”

“Do it, Carter,” O’Neill ordered.  “In the meantime, we’ll initiate a search from the air.”

“Yes sir,” Sam replied before trotting over to board the helicopter heading back to DC with Kate.

A large black man in civilian clothes and a fedora walked up and dangled a set of keys in front of Gibbs’ face.

“These are DiNozzo’s,” Gibbs confirmed as he took them and studied them closer.  “That must be why they took him.”

“Why’s that?” O’Neill asked, confused by the seeming non-sequitur.

“Handcuff key,” Gibbs explained as he held it up.

“Sweet,” the colonel replied, catching on.  “I think I like this guy.”

 

***

 

“Kate?” Abby called out worriedly as she got to her feet.

“I’m fine, Abby,” Kate assured as she led the Air Force officer into MTAC.  “Gibbs was right, the effects wore off.”

“Ducky wants to see you right away,” Abby grinned at Kate’s flinch.  “And you know if you don’t go to him, he’ll come looking for you.”

Kate nodded her head in surrender and backed towards the door.  “I believe you two know each other.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed, motioning towards the row of keyboards.  “I’ve got you set up over here, Major Carter.”

“Sam,” the other woman offered with a smile.

“Okay, Sam.  What do you want me to do?”

 

***

 

Bored and past caring what the prisoners did as long as they were quiet and weren’t trying to escape, the big guard sat mesmerized by one of the computer displays.  John plucked absently at the seam on Tony’s knee until Tony caught the offending fingers in a light grip and held them still.  After a particularly long stretch of silence Tony glanced at his watch, not surprised when a fidgety John grabbed his wrist and pulled it over to have a look too. 

“Marvin Martian,” Tony explained at the puzzled look on John’s face as he examined the watch.  “I spent big bucks for this thing on E-bay.  They just don’t make a lot of cartoon watches for men for some reason.”

“It’s nice.” John finally raised his head and smiled at him.

Tony stared into the earnest blue eyes for a minute before nervously shifting his gaze to the guard who continued to ignore them.  “Thanks,” he muttered as John unselfconsciously twined their fingers.  “Uh, John…”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah.”  Tony wiggled his hand free, wincing at the hurt expression on John’s face.  “Uh, guys don’t usually sit around holding hands.”

“Not even when they’ve been kidnapped and beaten and had their memories ripped away from them?”

“You’re a manipulative little shit,” Tony observed with a tight laugh as he tried not to let the pleading look get to him, going so far as to tuck his hand safely into his armpit.

“I’m not little by any stretch of the imagination,” John protested with a snort of amusement.

“No, just manipulative and a shit.”

“I can’t help it.  It makes me feel better to hold your hand,” John argued persuasively.  “It doesn’t mean you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Tony stated automatically.

“I know.  You keep telling me that over and over and…”

“You’re right, I do,” Tony interrupted.  He gave in with a sigh, knowing by now how persistent the man could be.  “I’ll hold your hand if it makes you feel better.” 

John happily accepted and gave the offered hand a squeeze as he sat back to enjoy the victory.  “Tony?” he asked curiously, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Why?” came the longsuffering response.

“I don’t know.  You’re not gay and you’re not married.  Or if you are married you don’t wear a ring...”

Tony huffed another small laugh.  “Checking out my ring finger, were you?”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No,” Tony said cautiously.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, never found the right girl I guess.”

“Finding the right one is like being gay?  You just know?”

“Beats me,” Tony sighed in mild exasperation.  “I still don’t understand this fascination you have with my love life.”

“I told you, your problems are more interesting than my problems,” John insisted.

“Well at the moment your problems _are_ my problems.”

“They’re going to use you against me, you know,” John said seriously, not meeting Tony’s eyes. 

“Probably,” Tony agreed.  “But it’s not like you can tell them anything.  They know you lost your memory.” 

“They should know, they took it after all.”

“Right.”

“Right.” John blew out a breath.  “So basically, you’re afraid if you commit to one person someone better will come along and you’ll be stuck.  You’ll spend your whole life alone if you keep thinking that way.”

Tony groaned and banged the back of his head against the door behind him.  “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.  Tell me about your book.  You read part of it, right?”

“Well, yes, but you didn’t seem particularly interested in it when I tried to get you to look at it earlier.”

“That’s not true.  I would _love_ to hear all about it.”

“Okay,” John shrugged.  “Let me think.  The first chapter started with an interesting excerpt from the diary of a conquistador named Bernal Diaz del Castillo as he caught sight of the great Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan…” John paused and glanced sideways at Tony’s already dazed expression.  “Are you sure you really want to hear this?”

Tony faked a smile.  “More than life itself,” he lied as he indulged in one last head bang.

“Anyway, Castillo thought the Aztec marketplace to be greater than any he’d ever seen in Europe and the royal palaces of Montezuma more magnificent than anything Spain had to offer…”

 

***

 

“You see anything, T.?” the colonel keyed his mic and asked the big man who had recovered DiNozzo’s keys.  Gibbs watched him shake his head then adjusted his own borrowed helmet and leaned a little further out the open door.  Catching flashes of road between the dense expanse of trees, Gibbs hadn’t spotted the gray panel truck yet either.

The pilot signaled an incoming message and O’Neill changed frequencies for a minute before poking Gibbs in the side to indicate he should switch, too.  “…in the extremely high frequency range right at three hundred gigahertz, in fact anything higher than that would be absorbed by the electromagnetic radiation of the Earth's atmosphere and be…”

“Carter!” O’Neill interrupted.  “Is it them or not?”

“I can’t be certain, but the signal is certainly distinctive, and it’s well within the search area given the usual length of time a concussion grenade knocks someone out and assuming travel within the posted speed limit…”

“Carter.”

“Yes sir.  The signal is fairly localized and coming from a single source.  I’m sending the coordinates now and another team is already in route and will meet you there.”

Gibbs watched O’Neill nod with the confidence of a man who trusted his team.  He knew the feeling well and finally allowed himself to breathe.

 

***

 

“… and so the god Tezcatlipoca was venerated each year in the form of a young man who personified the Aztec idea of masculine beauty,” John lectured, waving his hands as he spoke, occasionally jarring Tony’s cuffed arm absently.  “His skin would have been without blemish, his hair long and straight, his eyes bright and clear…”

“Why?” Tony interrupted.  He found himself far more interested in the tales than he would have thought possible in spite of the fact John had abandoned his hold on him almost the minute he started talking.

“Because he represented the Earth-bound form of Tezcatlipoca,” John explained.  “The young man lived as a god for a year and then in the last twenty days he was married to four women before he was given over to sacrifice.”

“How did they kill him?” the guard asked, causing both men to look up sharply.  He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, obviously having been listening for a while.

John studied him for a minute and when he decided the large man was sincere he continued, happily including the newcomer in his audience.  “He ascended the temple steps alone and at the top he was accosted by four priests who cut his heart from his chest and offered it to the sun.  His body was reverently carried away, although the book didn’t say exactly what they did with it, but his head was placed on a wooden rack with the dead warriors and sacrificial victims who had come before him.”

“Wow,” Tony said.  “Four wives.”

“That’s all you got out of the story?” John asked in dismay.

“Four, John.  Even I might get married if I could still have the option for three more.”

The guard laughed.  “Trust me, kid, as someone who’s been married twice, four wives just means three more women to tell you what to do.”

Tony smirked.  “You sound like Gibbs.”

“Gibbs has been married twice?” John asked in surprise.

“Gibbs has been married thrice,” Tony reported, holding up three fingers.

“I can’t even imagine being married once,” John muttered in awe.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one up front was listening, the guard lowered his voice anyway.  “You were married, Doctor Jackson.”

“Really?” Tony blurted out.

“You said _were_?” John queried nervously, licking his lip.  “As in I’m not married anymore?”

“Yeah,” the man hesitated before deciding to go on.  “It’s like the quintessential tragic love story of all time.”

“Why is it tragic?” Tony questioned, not fighting as John once again sought out his hand.

“Crap,” the guard sighed as he realized the consequences of opening his mouth.  “Sorry, Doc, she was taken away and eventually died after you searched for her for years.  I never should have mentioned it, it’s just… well you’re a legend in some parts and that’s such a big part of the lore.”

“I don’t want to hear any more,” John stated, dropping his head and leaning into Tony.

“I won’t say anything else.  You’ll get your memories back soon enough.”

“How?” Tony asked worriedly.

The guard looked uneasy and shook his head.

“I don’t want to be him,” John uttered without looking up.

“You don’t have any choice, Doctor Jackson.  Earth needs you.”

John accepted the proclamation with a resigned and oddly relieved nod.

“Earth needs him?” Tony asked acerbically.  “Hey, no pressure there.”

“You really have no idea what you’re dealing with here, do you officer?”

“Agent,” Tony corrected.  “Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS.”

The guard paused.  “NCIS?”

“Yeah.  Naval…”

“I know what it means,” the other man cut him off abruptly.  “I was just trying to figure out how NCIS got involved in this.”

“Well it started with Lance Corporal Murdock.”

“The jarheads, of course,” the still nameless guard harrumphed.  “I should have known.  It doesn’t matter, it’s out of your hands now anyway, _Agent_ DiNozzo.”

“Well now that you know me, how about returning the favor?”

“The less you know,” the man cautioned with a wry smile, “The better off you’ll be in the long run.”

“How touching, you care.  And here I thought you were heartless bastard.”

“Tony,” John warned tiredly. 

“Look, just because we do what has to be done without the usual political bullshit, that doesn’t automatically make us the bad guys.  Ultimately, we all have the same agenda.”

“Which is?” Tony pressed.

“To protect and serve, baby, we just do it on a large scale.  Admittedly, we still need the occasional diplomat and nobody says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ better than Doctor Jackson here.  We know that, that’s why we have to set things straight.  At least for now.”

The truck began to slow and made a righthand turn.  Outside, the sound of traffic diminished sharply.  After a jerky stop the driver got out, leaving his door open but climbed back in a minute later.  He pulled the vehicle into some kind of shelter before getting out again.  In the meantime, Oliver slipped through the partition and hovered nervously behind the guard.

“I hope we meet again someday under different circumstances, Doctor Jackson,” Oliver said wistfully.  “I’m so sorry we have to do this, but the chip may be very important someday if we can work out the kinks.  I know it’s going to seem awful at first but don’t worry, your allies have the technology to fix you back up.”

John looked up uneasily.  “Huh?”

“Whoa!  Hold on a minute.” Tony threw an arm protectively across John’s chest.  “Fix him up from what?”

When the driver rapped on the back door the guard pulled out a strange apparatus that looked like a disembodied metal penis.  He pushed a button and the weapon extended, looking even more like an erection as he pointed it at them.

“What is that thing?” Tony asked, caught between fascination and fear.

“I have no idea,” John muttered.  “I’m sorry I got you into this, Tony.”

Before Tony could answer they were engulfed in yet another burst of electrical current.  The jolt of white hot agony ended quickly as they both passed out.

“Check a pulse,” Oliver demanded worriedly.  “The second shot kills.”

“They’re fine.  Enough time has passed,” the guard assured nonchalantly as he put the zat away and stepped between the bodies to unlock the back door and push it open.

“Couldn’t you shoot them after they got out of the truck?” the driver bitched vehemently.

“You’re lazy as hell, aren’t you?” the guard shot back, jumping to the ground to help move the pair out the back and over against a wall of the abandoned garage.

Oliver put on a pair of latex gloves, retrieved a black bag, and followed.  “These conditions are abysmal for this,” he complained.

The guard sighed as he grabbed Doctor Jackson by the shoulders and sat him up.  “Make it quick before he wakes up.”

Taking a deep breath, Oliver squatted down and opened his bag.  He took out a small, disposable scalpel and opened the package.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled to the unconscious man as he moved his shaky hand closer.

“Wait a minute!” the driver yelled causing Oliver to jump, slicing Doctor Jackson’s cheek near his ear.

“What?!”

The driver licked his lip nervously.  “Well you know what happened to Weber’s team.”

“All we’re doing is removing the chip,” Oliver explained irritably, now more nervous than before.  “They were using a memory device, something I warned against, I might add.”

“Oh,” the man replied sheepishly, standing well back anyway.  “I see.  Don’t let me hold you up.”

Oliver sighed and pulled himself together before turning back to his unpleasant task.  Blood ran freely down the side of Doctor Jackson’s face but he managed to ignore it and concentrate.  He tugged the earlobe down and back and cautiously inserted the blade until he met resistance then gave the handle a controlled little jab.  When he withdrew the knife another thin stream of red followed.

Reaching back into the bag with his clean hand, Oliver retrieved a pair of alligator forceps and inserted the tip of the delicate instrument into the bloodied canal.  Digging around blind for several seconds he finally located the chip and managed to capture it between the tiny pinschers.  He pulled it out triumphantly along with a small piece of tympanic membrane.

“There.” 

With no bolts of lightning to contend with, the driver moved forward and located a small lead-lined capsule, opened it, and offered it to the scientist.  Oliver gratefully dropped the soiled chip inside and watched with a shudder of self-loathing as the driver sealed it.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” the guard ordered as he gently positioned Doctor Jackson so the blood wouldn’t run into his face. 

He and the driver made quick work of stripping the gray camouflage sheeting from the outside of the van to reveal the white paint underneath with the logo of a local plumbing supply store on both sides and the back.  The smaller of the two men was hoisted to the top of the truck and quickly detached each antennae and satellite dish before passing it back down to the guard who put them away.

Oliver took the opportunity to apply a quick pressure bandage to the wound he had inadvertently caused, apologizing profusely to his unresponsive victim the whole time. 

Within minutes the changeover was complete.  The guard opened the garage door and stood waiting as the driver started the truck and Oliver climbed into the back.  As the vehicle backed out Doctor Jackson began to stir.  With one final glance, the guard resealed the entrance behind him and climbed into the passenger side of the cab.  Within minutes they were back on the freeway, blending in effortlessly with the other traffic.

 

***

 

_Although the three-pronged intravenous cocktail relaxed him right down to his bones, mentally it made him anything but pliant.  “I can’t tell you what I don’t remember,” Daniel slurred, smiling at the Marine with the broken nose who glared back at him from across the porch.  He wanted to add a little fingertip wave as well but his hands were secured behind his back so he settled for a wink instead.  It got the desired result as the man angrily lunged for him._

_“Take it easy, Murdock.” Weber intervened by pushing the younger man off the porch to land in the weeds.  Daniel smirked drunkenly, bobbing his head in amusement as the kid got up and brushed himself off, swearing revenge under his breath._

_“Hold still,” the mean spirited, older man who Daniel already privately called ‘the Marquis de Sade’ commanded, pressing a familiar round device to his temple._

_After the initial sting, Daniel managed a smug laugh.  “Memory device won’t work either,” he taunted._

_“Not by itself maybe,” Weber replied, gripping Daniel firmly by the chin.  “Murdock, get up here.”_

_“What’s that?” Daniel asked through the forced pursing of his lips when the Marquis approached holding an odd-looking apparatus with a tiny silver computer chip on the end of it._

_When he got back on the porch Murdock sauntered around behind the chair then wrapped his arms around Daniel’s head and neck tighter than was strictly necessary.  “Punk ass motherfucker,” he whispered crossly into Daniel’s ear._

_Weber let go and backed away.  “I know,” he shrugged at Daniel in response to his ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ stare.  “Good help is hard to find.”_

_“Isn’t it?” Daniel commiserated, taking a personal jab at Weber even as Murdock further tightened his grip._

_Weber’s expression darkened.  “Don’t get sanctimonious with me, Jackson.  This is war.  We can’t just sit back and let the Goa’uld destroy the Earth.  I’ll do whatever I have to to keep that from happening.”_

_“I can’t tell you what I don’t remember,” Daniel repeated, starting to struggle as Sade moved closer with the ominous looking mechanism._

_“Are you sure this is going to work?” Weber questioned one last time to dispel his lingering doubt.  “We don’t even have the controller for the memory device.”_

_“The memory device should form a nature filter to help concentrate and focus the buried memories but we don’t need a controller to do that.  Without it though, we’d get a mishmash of dreams and subconscious desires along with what we’re looking for.  It would take a long time to sort through everything.”_

_“Huntington said it might be dangerous.”_

_“Huntington is a coward,” Sade spat vindictively.  “If we wait on him there’ll be a false god on every corner by the time he’s ready.”_

_“You’re right, but Jackson here is notoriously stubborn.  Are you sure you can get the information out of him after he remembers it?”_

_Sade smiled a soft, evil little smile.  “He’ll talk.”_

_Weber glanced at the assorted goodies spread out on the table in the early morning light and swallowed convulsively.  He nodded and Sade moved forward with the chip._

_Daniel screamed as the sharp-edged metal strip pierced his eardrum and a small jolt of power activated the chip.  The physical pain was bad enough, but the first memory that hit him was the destruction of his beloved Abydos and the wanton slaughter of his adopted people.  His face reflected his horror and Murdock dropped his hold and pointed wordlessly at the dark clouds that suddenly boiled in the sky from out of nowhere.  The two other men turned to look as thunder unexpectedly rolled behind them._

_“Turn it off,” Weber muttered urgently._

_“I can’t,” Sade protested as the wind began to pick up._

_“Do something!”_

_Sade hastily plucked the memory device from Daniel’s face and threw it down on the table.  He dropped the delivery mechanism and it rolled away, dropping off the edge of the worn wooden planks and into the weeds._

_“It’s too late!” Weber shouted in terror.  “Run!”_

_They jumped to the ground and scattered like rats in different directions but in the flash of an eye a bolt from the sky split three-ways, finding each of them simultaneously.  Spasming violently for a fraction of a second, they crumbed into smoldering heaps, leaving little more than ashes.  On the porch Daniel’s head fell forward as he passed out._

 

***

 

“Talk to me, Carter,” O’Neill growled impatiently as the gray truck continued to elude them even when they should have been closing in.  His frustration was palpable and the strain was beginning to show as he started taking it out on the people around him, something Gibbs could grudgingly relate to. 

Discontent with so many things at the moment, Gibbs himself had no such outlet and kept his own mouth clamped into a tight line as he continued to scan the landscape below.  Mostly he was worried about DiNozzo and the witness, but he also resented being relegated to bystander status at what he still considered to be his party.  It galled him to watch someone sweep in with no regard to how good his team really was.  And frankly, he liked to be in the driver’s seat.  He needed to be in control, especially when one of his own was missing and in danger.

 “I’m sorry, sir,” Carter finally said through the radio after a particularly long exchange of techno-babble with Abby.  “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Gibbs blurted out edgily, no longer able to keep quiet. 

“It stopped transmitting,” Abby chimed in unhappily.  “Sorry Gibbs, we’re not picking up anything in that range anymore.”

“Why would they turn it off?” O’Neill sputtered. 

“We have no way to know that, sir.  It might have malfunctioned or they might have merely changed frequencies,” Carter extrapolated.  “Whatever happened they slowed down and then stopped before the signal failed.  I’m sending the last know coordinates now.”

“We’re close,” the pilot confirmed. 

O’Neill nodded.  “Where’s the ground crew?”

“They’re closing in from the east,” Carter answered without hesitation.

“Have ‘em set up a landing zone for us and we’ll check that position out,” O’Neill ordered tersely.

“Yes sir.”

 

***

 

Daniel stirred restlessly, pain pulling him unwillingly towards consciousness.  When he woke his memory was merely there, not returning in fits and starts as it had before.  He pressed firmly against the sodden bandage over his ear and struggled to sit up but rampant dizziness discouraged a fully upright position.  Instead he scooted sideways toward Tony, reaching out to try to find a pulse.  His clumsy actions knocked the ring of metal around Tony’s wrist into the knob on the top of his watch setting off the alarm.  When he felt a steady thump beneath his fingers, Daniel relaxed and gave in to the overwhelming urge to black out.

 

***

 

Ten minutes later they were on the ground and surrounding a dilapidated auto repair shop just outside of Fairfax, Virginia.  Gibbs pulled his gun and waited as O’Neill used hand signals to direct his men.  Together they followed as the man named Murray led the way to the big sliding door on the front of the building.  As a group they froze at the strange sound coming through the metal barrier.

“What the hell?” O’Neill questioned, exchanging a puzzled glance with Murray as the theme to Looney Tunes played over and over.

“That’s DiNozzo’s watch,” Gibbs told them.

“Really?  I have _got_ to meet this guy,” O’Neill exclaimed as he gave the sign to move out.

Murray pulled the heavy, slightly buckled door back easily with one hand and Gibbs silently gave thanks he was on their side.  One by one they slipped into the dim interior of the apparently empty building as other teams entered through the back and the office.

“Over here!” someone shouted from the direction of the happy tune.

They hurried over, separating only slightly as they picked out and went to their respective team members. 

“Tony?” Gibbs put away his gun and patted DiNozzo’s face urgently, pleased when dark lashed eyelids finally began to flutter.  “Shut that damned thing off,” he ordered.

On reflex Tony reached over and hit the button even before his eyes were fully open.  “Gibbs?”

“I’m here.  Hang on a minute.”  Gibbs reached into his pocket and pulled out the first set of keys he came across which happened to be Tony’s. 

“John?” Tony asked as Gibbs hastily unlocked the cuff, handing the key to Murray to set the witness free as well.

Tony winced and rubbed his wrist as he tried to turn toward the activity next to him.

“I don’t know,” Gibbs said, pushing Tony back down gently.  “I think he’s alive.”

“I can’t see him.”

“It’s okay, your sight’ll come back in a little while,” Gibbs soothed. 

Giving him an odd look, Tony gestured at the enormous form now wedged between him and his friend.  “I can see; I just can’t see John.”

“Oh,” Gibbs wiped the overt concern from his face as he helped Tony slowly sit up. 

There was a groan from John and then Murray pulled him over his shoulder and made for the door.  O’Neill knelt down next to Tony as he handed Gibbs back the keys.  “Thanks for looking out for our boy, DiNozzo, we appreciate it,” he said, patting Tony on the shoulder before getting up with a groan of his own and trotting to catch up to his friends.  “Damn knees,” he muttered on the way out.

“Who was that?” Tony asked worriedly as he turned to examine the blood on the ground where John had lain.  He reached for the discarded dressing but Gibbs pulled his hand back.

“It’s okay,” Gibbs assured.  “He works with them.”

“Are you sure?”

Gibbs paused and helped a shaky Tony to his feet then drew his arm across his shoulder to help him to the door.  “I hope so,” he admitted.  “Because I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it if they’re not who they say they are.”

By the time they got to the door a black Suburban was already speeding away.  “Where are we going?” Tony asked as Gibbs prodded him in the other direction.

“Let’s fly home,” Gibbs suggested.  “I want Ducky to check you out ASAP.”

Tony watched the SUV disappear onto the highway before allowing himself to be led away.

 

***

 

The trip back had been quick but Tony found himself searching for black SUVs on the roads below almost the whole way home instead of enjoying the ride.  Gibbs still insisted he should see Ducky right away so they entered the building through the garage and headed straight for the morgue.

“Tony!” Abby launched herself from where she’d been napping on the metal table and attacked the slightly bedraggle man only a few steps inside of the door.

“Hey Abs,” Tony laughed lightly as she hugged the stuffing out of him.  “You okay?” he asked over Abby’s head as he caught sight of Kate slipping in behind Gibbs.

“Yeah,” Kate smiled back at him, glad to see him in one piece.  “I heard you guys snuck in the back way.  How are you?”

“I’m good,” Tony assured, seeming a little off in spite of his dazzling smile.

“Where’s John?” Abby asked, pushing back slightly as she looked up at Tony, keeping her hands around his waist.

“I don’t know.  Those bastards cut the chip out of him and left him on the floor to bleed,” Tony told her with an edge of anger to his voice.

“He’s fine,” Gibbs assured both of them.  “The Air Force has him now.  He’ll be taken care of.”

Abby sought out Tony’s eyes for verification but he only shrugged.  “I didn’t get to see him before they took him away.”

“The case is over,” Gibbs changed the subject fluently.  “They cleaned us out.”

“Just like that?” Tony frowned.

“Just like it.”

“Yep,” Abby confirmed miserably.  “And we don’t have a single, solitary shred of tangible evidence that any of it ever really happened,” she sighed dramatically.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ducky objected as he came out of his office, tapping a finger to his temple then nodding towards Abby. 

“Abby?” Gibbs asked sternly when she turned her head to glare at the coroner, unintentionally revealing her bruise as she finally let go of Tony.

“It was an accident,” Abby fibbed as she crossed her fingers behind her back.  “Mostly,” she confessed guiltily.  “I had intent.”

Gibbs glowered at her as Ducky collected Tony and pulled him towards his office.  “Come, Anthony.  Off with your shirt,” he commanded.

“Why?” Tony whined, dragging his feet.

“Because I’m going to examine you,” Ducky exclaimed with a longsuffering sigh as he put a hand to his back to propel him along faster.

“Now be a big boy, Tony,” Kate called after them.

“Yeah, take your medicine,” Gibbs added with a smirk.

Ducky stopped to glance back with a twinkle in his eye as he pushed Tony through the door ahead of him.  “Don’t laugh, Jethro, you’re next.”

 

***

 

A soft moan of pain escaped his lips as he opened his eyes.  The only light came from what looked like late afternoon sun that found its way around the edges of the window covering.  Although he felt the tug of an IV in his arm and he was obviously drugged to the gills Daniel instinctively knew he wasn’t in a hospital.  “Tony?” he asked the silhouette in the chair next to the bed.

“Jack,” a well-known voice provided softly. 

“Jack?”

“Yeah.”  There was a long silence followed by a resigned sigh.  “I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill and you are…”

“Jack.”

“Daniel?” The figure reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

“Yes.  Where’s Tony?”

“Uh…” Jack paused and pointed to his chest questioningly.  “You know me?”

“Of course, I know you.” Daniel winced.  His ear hurt like hell and talking didn’t seem to help.  “When they took out the chip I got my memory back.”

“The locator chip?”

“What?  No,” Daniel argued in spite of the pain, “It was a memory suppressing chip, if they could track me with it that was probably just an added benefit.”

“Oh,” Jack said as he leaned forward and patted Daniel on the arm.  “Well good.  I’m glad we don’t have to go through that whole lost memory thing again.”

“We?”

“Yeah, we,” Jack insisted, moving his hand up to rest briefly on Daniel’s head before moving it back to his arm.

Daniel allowed Jack’s tactile affirmation that he really was alive and well then turned his hand to give Jack’s a squeeze in return.  “Tony?” he finally inquired again.

Jack shrugged.  “Gibbs came after him.”

“Were they okay?” Daniel asked anxiously.  “Kate?”

“Oh, you know, the usual; a concussion grenade here, a zatting there.  Everybody made it out okay.  You got the worst of it.  On top of the bathroom surgery it looks like they worked you over pretty good.”

“I’m fine,” Daniel muttered offhandedly, playing with the edge of the blanket.  “Can I see Tony?”

“Why?”

“I just want to say… thanks, I guess.”

“Later,” Jack promised.  “Right now, you need to rest.”

“Rest isn’t going to heal my eardrum,” Daniel retorted obstinately.

“No, but Fraiser and Jacob are on the way. They should be here soon.”

“Wow.  That was fast.  Jacob came all the way to Earth to fix my ear?”

“Well you’ve been out for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“Well, uh, since yesterday actually.  The doc has pretty much kept you under.  He said the damage is so severe that if the blade had gone even an eighth of an inch further…” Jack trailed off at the panicked look sent his way.  “Oh, hey, don’t worry about it.  This is like a hangnail to the Tok’ra, ya know.”

“I’m not worried,” Daniel lied, reaching tentatively to check out his bandaged ear.  “Where are we anyway?”

“Hotel in DC,” Jack grunted unhappily.  “We couldn’t fly you home with a damaged eardrum and we couldn’t put you in a hospital without making up some elaborate cover story.  There’s a Navy doctor from Bethesda with a top-secret security clearance looking after you.  When Fraiser gets here we’ll give him the boot.”

“We’re a grateful lot, aren’t we,” Daniel said cynically.  “Yeah, thanks for all the help.  Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?  Don’t call me, I’ll call you.  And whatever you do, don’t let the screen door hit your ass on the way out.”

Jack let Daniel get his frustration out, knowing good and well he wasn’t talking about the doctor.  “Fine, after Jacob gets through with you I’ll take you to see your buddy,” he appeased.  “But you’re not going anywhere until then.”

Settling down, Daniel released one last agitated breath.  “Thanks, Jack.”

Before Jack could answer the door opened and Sam and Teal’c cautiously peeked in.  “We heard voices,” Sam explained as they filed into the room.

“Hi guys,” Daniel greeted as they gathered around the bed. 

 

***

 

As he drove home after the first day back at the office since the strange case had started and come to an abrupt and thoroughly unsatisfying halt, Tony had to remind himself it had been less than a week since they’d flown out to West Virginia.  It felt a lot longer than that.  It felt like a lifetime since he’d met the enigmatic man who had come to mean so much to him, more than he was willing to admit even to himself.

Keeping it low key Tony had spent the day exploring every official channel, and with Abby’s help some rather questionable sources as well, to find out what had happened to the amnesic witness.  What they managed to uncover was disturbing but not particularly helpful.  The high-tech prowl through the extraordinary life of Doctor Daniel Jackson turned up a few sad surprises; most notably the loss of his parents at a young age and then the collapse of a promising career much later due to some rather extreme ideas that fell outside the accepted beliefs of the archeological community.

Nowhere, however, had they found evidence of a deceased wife, although the same couldn’t be said for Jackson himself.  He had been officially declared _dead_ by the Air Force not just once, but on two separate occasions, miraculously resurrected each time without explanation.

More recently the man had simply fallen off the face of the planet for almost an entire year.  Without benefit of a death certificate this time the whereabouts of Jackson nevertheless remained a mystery and Uncle Sam had stepped in to pay off the broken lease on a high dollar loft apartment.  All very hush-hush, but Abby had friends in the most unlikely places. But as easy as it was to follow the everyday paper trail of utilities, magazine subscriptions, and credit cards charges, the man’s career after he became involved with the military remained obscured by secrecy. 

Vanishing so easily and so completely time after time, Tony wondered if the good doctor wasn’t some kind of astral specter after all.  And now John was gone with him… along with the other bodies and every scrap of physical evidence that proved something fearsome and horrible had happened on that fateful morning out by the river.  All they had left to show for the entire adventure was a few sore muscles and some bruises, one of which, Abby’s pseudo self-inflicted one, was carefully photographed, documented, and quietly filed away for their own peace of mind. 

Tony thought about stopping for a beer but he felt too tired.  Not in body but in spirit.  He sighed and turned right instead of left and headed for home.  Parking in his usual spot he got out of the car and slammed the door before noticing a person standing on the walk in front of his door.  As he approached the gray-haired man turned around and extended his right hand with a smile, moving just enough that Tony could see there was someone else sitting on the step. 

“We weren’t properly introduced before.  I’m Jack. You’re DiNozzo, right?”

“It’s Tony,” the second man corrected as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and got to his feet a little anxiously.

Tony accepted the hand shake but kept his eyes on the other stranger.  “John?” he asked in disbelief.

“Uh, actually my name’s Daniel.  Daniel Jackson.”  He flashed a nervous smile as if he was unsure of his welcome then wrapped his arms around his torso in a self-protective gesture.  Somehow, he seemed older, more brittle Tony thought as he continued to stare.  His expression was different, more wary and John’s wide-eyed innocence was gone.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, giving nothing away, especially not that he’d spent all day desperately trying to find him.

Daniel’s face fell at the cool reception but some of the memorable stubbornness came back to set of his jaw.  “Can I come in for a minute?”

“Say thank you, Daniel, and let’s get out of the nice man’s hair,” Jack offered, recognizing the tension even if he didn’t understand it.

“Wait in the car, Jack.”  Daniel requested bluntly, not breaking eye contact with Tony for a second.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Jack retorted.  “You’ll be lucky to go potty by yourself for the next six months after this latest stunt.”

“Stunt?” Daniel yelped as he spun on the older man and pinned him with an outraged glare.  “Stunt?” he repeated as they squared off.  “I didn’t ask to be abducted you know.”

“Poor choice of words,” Jack soothed, not backing down an inch.  “Just tell him what you came to say and let’s go.”

“It’s private.”

“Private?  Oh, for cryin’ out loud…”

“Yes, Jack, I’d like to have a private conversation with my friend.  Wait in the car.  _Please_ ,” Daniel added, not being particularly polite. 

Jack answered by sizing up DiNozzo again in an obvious threat assessment.

“You can trust Tony to protect me if someone jumps out with a gun to cart me off again,” Daniel assured as he batted his eyelashes sardonically.

“Like that’s never happened before,” Jack shot back in an annoyed tone.

The two men stared at each other, neither blinking as they held an entire, unspoken conversation in the lift of an eyebrow and the quirk of a lip.  As Tony watched the back and forth with interest he knew the second Jack acquiesced.

“It was nice to meet you,” Jack said with a gracious bow of his head as he turned and walked away.  “I’ll just be in the car _minding my own damned business_.”

“Thank you,” Daniel called after him.  As his aggravation with Jack waned he grew more reserved.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked when Jack climbed into a rental car and slammed the door.  Proud of himself for not leaning in for a hug, he was humbled by how much he wanted one.  He settled for resting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder even though he could feel Jack’s eyes on him the entire time.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Daniel nodded and shifted his gaze to the ground shyly. 

Tony took a minute to check him over and he really did look good.  Really, really good if a little unfamiliar.  “So, you wanna come in for a minute?”

“Yes,” Daniel responded decisively.

Tony climbed the steps and unlocked the door, acutely aware of the man who followed him in.  “John…” he started probing for answers as soon as the door was shut behind them.

“I can’t tell you anything specific,” Daniel warned without correcting the name.  They stood in the entry and looked at each other without speaking.

After a couple minutes Tony reached up to arrange the neatly combed bangs into something more recognizable.  Even without mousse the hair obeyed.  “I hate you,” he grumbled in mock indignation.  Daniel blushed under the attention but didn’t move away. 

“Stardust?” Tony asked softly.

“Not exactly,” Daniel offered without flinching as Tony pulled off his glasses and continued to appraise him, “But about as close as I can explain.  And hey, the good news is… I’m not crazy.”

“And the bad news?”

“I’m not crazy.”

Tony let the meaning sink in for a minute before responding.  “How not crazy?” he asked carefully.

Daniel snorted.  “That depends on who you ask I suppose.”

“So?” Tony pointed toward the ceiling.  “Omit the pertinent details.”

“I’ve already told you too much,” Daniel shook his head, growing solemn.  “That’s not why I came.”

“Your bruise is gone,” Tony observed, fascinated.  “There’s not even a trace of it left.  And what about your ear?  I know they hurt you but you don’t seem to be in any pain now.”

“I’m fine,” Daniel insisted, pursing his lips irritably when a horn sounded outside.  “Look Tony, I’ve been thinking about your problem…”

“Why does that worry me so much more than finding out you really do believe in little green men?”

“They’re gray,” Daniel deadpanned.  “Now shut up and listen before Jack loses his cool and drags me out of here.  I think the reason you haven’t found the right girl is because you should be looking for Mr. Right instead.”

“I… what?” Tony stammered.  “I’m not…”

“Gay,” Daniel finished for him.  “Yeah, I know you keep telling me that.  I’ve come to the conclusion that you protest too much.”

“Is that your lifestyle?” Tony asked accusingly.

“If you mean do I frequent gay bars and have anonymous sex with men, no I don’t.  But I’d like to think if love came along I wouldn’t toss it away simply because it came in the wrong kind of package.”

Tony backed up until he hit the door.  “Why did you come here?”

“Oh relax,” Daniel snapped at him.  “I’m not going to declare undying love for you or anything.  I will admit I was attracted to you almost from the first moment I saw you, but you already know that.  Gibbs knew it too; he used it, that’s why he pushed us together.”

Biting back the denial, Tony realized he was still holding the other man’s glasses and stopped to ponder why he’d taken them in the first place.  He did it to get a better look at the warm blue eyes behind them; John’s eyes.  Daniel’s. 

“Remembering things out of context was terribly frightening but I can assure you things aren’t quite as grave as I made them out to be.  Don’t worry about that, okay?  It’s just… life is short, Tony, you don’t have any guarantees.  You should try to figure out what you really want.”

“I want John,” Tony blurted out in a moment of unbelievably raw honesty.  “At least I thought I did.  But you’re not him, are you?”

“He’s in here,” Daniel soothed as he began to move closer. 

“Have you always been so smart?”

“No.  It was… _enlightening_ to look at life without any preconceived ideas or biases.  You should try it.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass on the chip,” Tony joked, plastering his backside to the door as Daniel continued his slow, predatory advance until they were face to face, only inches from touching.

“I learned a lot from you, Tony.  That’s why I’m here.  To say thank you.”  When the horn honked again Daniel rolled his eyes and broke off the slow-motion attack.

“He’s persistent,” Tony sighed, sorry to see the spell broken.

Daniel smirked and looked down.  “Yeah, we’ve been an old married couple for a long time.  I just don’t think Jack has realized it yet.”

“Maybe you should give him a hint.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, something subtle,” Tony suggested with a sudden leer.  “When he asked what we talked about, and he will, trust me, tell him you came to kiss me good-bye.”

“I wouldn’t want to lie,” Daniel muttered, glancing up seductively through his lashes.

Tony swallowed hard as he made up his mind.  “So don’t lie.”

 

***

 

**Three weeks later**

Tony brooded in the back seat with nothing to do but sit and think.  He knew he’d been subdued lately.  After all, he’d had a lot of things to mull over.  Daniel had nailed him, figuratively anyway, calling a spade a spade, seeing things Tony himself had turned a blind eye to.  He _had_ been making himself crazy, chasing one thing and secretly longing for something else.  Denying it could ever exist.  He’d been wasting time hastily peeling one orange after another when what he really wanted was to take a great big bite out of an apple.

The current shortcut was paved for a change and Gibbs sped the car along smoothly, apparently lost in his own thoughts.  Kate had picked at Tony relentlessly for a while but had eventually given up and gone silent when he refused to bite, answering her taunts with grunts and single syllables.  Sitting behind Gibbs, he was able to covertly study her profile as she was bathed in the dashboard light.  He liked Kate, but he wasn’t especially attracted to her.  And he was okay with that.  Gibbs was another matter altogether. 

While he knew all about Gibbs’ golden rule number twelve, never date a coworker, Tony also knew Gibbs was not above breaking _any_ rule when it suited him.  He wasn’t about to proposition his boss, but it wouldn’t hurt to dangle a little bait.  Get it out there, so to speak.  One way or the other no matter how things worked out the game had changed and Tony thought it only fair he should at least let his team know about it.  Subtly.  Sure, he could do subtle, too.  He undid his seat belt and slid forward.

“The pressure was different,” Tony observed, resting his elbows on the back of the front seat between Kate and Gibbs as he stared straight ahead.  “The lips were firmer but still soft.  Actually, I was surprised how soft.”

Gibbs kept his eyes on the road, but Kate turned to look at him suspiciously.

“The tongue was the same; hot and wet but a little rougher, more demanding maybe, but that might have just been the situation.  The only real difference was I came away with slight case of whisker burn.  It was all good though.  Very good.”

“Tony, what are you talking about?” Kate asked, bewildered by his passionate monologue.

“You wanted to know what it was like to tongue a guy,” Tony explained innocently.  He couldn’t help but needle a little so he added, “I thought I’d share since you’re not likely to find out first hand.”

Kate made a disgusted noise and turned away to look out the window.  Seemingly unaffected by the discussion, Gibbs merely kept driving.  With a sigh of something, relief or possibly dejection, Tony stayed in the middle of the seat but leaned back and closed his eyes.  Kate thought he was only ribbing her and God only knew what was going through Gibbs’ mind about it, if anything.  It could have gone better, but it also could have gone a lot worse.

When he looked up some time later he found Gibbs intermittently watching him in the rearview mirror.  He couldn’t see Gibbs’ mouth, but his eyes were smiling. 

“What?” he asked with a guarded shrug. 

“Voss didn’t have a five o’clock shadow,” Gibbs replied conversationally, still grinning.

Tony returned the smile in full wattage as Kate responded to that little tidbit and whirled around in her seat to gape at him. 

“No,” Tony admitted evenly.  “He didn’t.”

 

 

 

The End


End file.
